A Twisted Game
by mermaidsahoy
Summary: What if the Game of Thrones characters found themselves in our world, without remembering who they are or where they came from? Will someone be able to save them and help them return to Westeros? Loosely based off the Once Upon a Time storyline/plot. Just a story that came to my head :)
1. Chapter 1

Cersei

"Are you sure this will work?" the queen gazed at the small vial in her hand, the liquid inside it a rich purple swirling with black. "It has never been tested before, your grace. But I am sure of its success. I have worked long and hard, and faced many terrible things to create this spell," the hooded man answered her. Cersei closed her fist around the vial. "Thank you. I will remember what you have done after we have crossed over." The man bowed and left. The queen slowly unfolded the instructions that were attached to the spell. "An open space to unleash the spell. Add the blood of the one you love most. Say the words."

She swallowed hard and turned to stare out the window into the dark night. _The one I love most,_ she mused. Who was there that she loved? They had all left her. Myrcella was dead. Tommen was dead. Joffery was dead. Jaime had left her in disgust. She was cast out, ruined. Her hand clutched the instructions, her nails biting into her hand. She looked down and saw blood dripping from the cuts. And she knew. _Too easy_. Cersei turned and stalked out of the room. She was glad to leave this miserable inn in this miserable village. They would all pay. She would be on top once again, not that silver-haired wench with her dragons. She sent for her horse, and as she waited she caught her reflection on a glass hanging by the door. Forced to flee, she had cut her long, blonde curls. Now they just touched her shoulders, dyed a dark brown from walnut stain. She looked pale and thin, but her eyes were bright.

The horse delivered to her, she rode hard out of the village, down the road. An open space was needed for the spell to work. And she knew just the place. Cersei had never put much by magic before, but she had nothing to lose by this. If it didn't work, well, that was that. But if it did…all would be right. The dead would not be in this new world, but everyone else would be. _Jaime_. He would not remember who he was, who she was, but Cersei had no doubt that they would find their way to each other again. She would give him a good postion, and make him fall in love wit her again. As for the others…well, Cersei wasn't sure how much control she had over the specifics, but she would make sure to keep a close eye on those who had caused her pain.

She rode hard all night and the next day, almost killing her poor horse. She paid no heed; this was something that needed to be executed quickly. Many people were looking for her, and she barely escaped each time. She followed a path off the road through a small tangle of trees, leading up to a clearing. It was a place that they had stopped at once on the way to Winterfell, before Robert died. It felt like a million years ago. The queen dismounted and stared at the center of the clearing, surrounded by large stones that travelers would sit upon. Yes, this, was a good place. A wide field lay around them. Even if someone spotted her, it would be too late to do anything by the time they reached the top of the hill.

Cersei collected branches and started a fire as dusk drew near. She took out a dagger, her one weapon, and looked at her hand. "The one I love most is myself," she whispered, slicing through her skin. She let the blood fall into the fire and it hissed. Then she took the vial and poured the purplish liquid out on the flames. A large puff of smoke gathered, eating the fire and the wood. Dropping the glass, Cersei stretched out her arms and repeated the spell words, willing them to obey her and what she wanted. When she uttered the last word, the smoke grew higher and filled the air around her. The sharp sound of thunder echoed across the sky, and lighting began to rain down around the hill. The cloud grew larger and larger and swept across Cersei, her arms still spread out, a smile on her face, and the cloud consumed her rolled down the fields across Westeros.


	2. Chapter 2

Just a note to everyone: The next couple chapters will be more about setting up the characters and distinguishing their roles in our world. Also, not all of the characters from the GoT universe will be mentioned, especially since some are dead by this point. I will try to make sure I include as many as possible, but I'm sure we are all aware of how many characters GRRM has created. Which is a lot. Once again, thank you for reading, and don't forget to post your reviews! :D

I do not own Game of Thrones or any of the characters.

Chapter 1

Arya pulled her jacket around her tighter as she made her way down the sidewalk to the diner. The wind had picked up since that morning, whisking leaves along the streets. It didn't bother her, but she couldn't help but feel better burying her hands into the deep pockets of her coat. At least school was out early. Miss Margaery had had a meeting with some parent.

She reached the diner and pulled the door open, smiling at the tinkling bell and the warm, fragrant air that greeted her. The diner was the most popular place I town; everyone visited there for coffee or a sandwich. Her mouth watered as she caught a glimpse of a freshly made pie being put on the counter by a tall girl, Sansa. "You're here early. Did you get in a fight again?" Sansa asked her, swatting the younger girl's hand away from the pie. "No," Arya scowled at her. "We got out because Miss Margaery had a meeting." "Go wash up then." The slim, red-haired girl disappeared to help a customer. Arya rolled her eyes. _Bossy_.

Sliding under the counter, she went to the sink in the back and washed her hands, then put on the small apron hanging on the back door after taking her jacket up. Sansa came looking for her. "Can you take these to table 4?" "Why can't you?" "I'm busy, Arya!" Sansa held out the tray of sandwiches. The girl grabbed it and stomped around the counter to table 4. A tall, built man sat at it. He wore a dark coat and his brown hair looked dirty. Arya knew who he was as she got closer. The side of the man's face was burned and scarred. He looked up at her with piercing eyes as she set his food down. "Where's the red-head?" he asked in a deep voice. "She's busy," Arya answered simply. He snorted and took a deep gulp from his glass, then shoved it her. "Refill." Arya took it and rolled her eyes but walked back to the counter. "Sandor needs a beer," she informed Catelyn, the woman who ran the diner. She was a tall woman with dark reddish hair, and a thin smile. She always wore a scraf around her neck, no matter the weather. Sansa said she had a thick ugly scar. But she was kind to Arya and Sansa, and let them help her at the diner. Catelyn took the mug with a grimace. "He always needs a beer." She refilled it and handed it back to Arya. "Walk slowly, don't spill it." The girl nodded and brought the mug back to Sandor, who took it without so much as a thank-you. He had already demolished one of the sandwiches.

She went back into the kitchen where Sansa was scooping soup into a bowl. "Sandor asked about you," she said teasingly. Sansa flicked soup at her and laughed as Arya tried to dodge. "That's why I gave you his table," she said. "Are you afraid of him? You're such a scaredy cat." Sansa stuck her tongue out and moved out of the kitchen with the soup. She was a little embarrassed by her Arya's comment. Sandor didn't scare her, she just…wanted to avoid him.

It was late when Catelyn closed the diner. She had already sent Arya and Sansa back to the hotel where they rented a room from Petyr Randall. As long as the girls paid on time, Petyr did not care how long they stayed. Catelyn suspected that his leniency was to somehow gain her favor, but Catelyn had no use such a man other than making sure he treated the girls fairly.

She locked the door of the diner and pulled her jacket close. The weather was much colder than it had been earlier that week. She wondered if the girls had warmer coats…and shook her head. "I'm such a mother hen," she scolded herself. Those girls were just fine on their own. They were close…almost like sisters, yet they couldn't be. They looked too different. And acted too different.

A sleek black car pulled up to the sidewalk and the driver's window rolled down. "Good evening, Miss James." Catelyn nodded her head politely. "Madam Mayor. How are you this evening?" The blond-haired woman in the car sent her a smile that held no warmth. "Wonderful. Heading home from the office." The woman's eyes looked at the sky, then at Catelyn's coat. "It's getting a bit nippy outside, isn't it? A shame you don't have a car." The words sounded polite, but Catelyn knew they were laced with venom. "I prefer walking. And yes," she said glancing around, "it is getting nippier. I think winter is coming soon." She nodded her head again and walked away.

Cersie rolled the window up and drove off in disgust. She wasn't sure why she bothered to even talk to any of these people, but she hadn't been able to resist the chance to try to make Catelyn James uncomfortable. _Stupid woman, with her stupid winter saying_, she thought as she drove into the driveway of her large, white pillared home. It was the largest and best house in the town, of course. She would have nothing less than that, after all she had been through. She collected her briefcase from the seat beside her and walked up to the front door to unlock it, her high-heels clicking. This world had had such strange clothing at first, but now, after so much time had gone by, Cersei was used to the suits, the heels, and the short dresses.

She set her keys down on the table inside and took off her coat. The house was silent. "Nathan?" she called. Her son should be at home…a strong hand gripped her arm and she spun around to gaze into the eyes of the town's sheriff. He smirked at her, his blue eyes boring into hers. "Why, sheriff, did you break into my home?" she asked playfully. He smiled. "More or less. I told Nathan he could stay the night at a friend's house." "Oh, did you now? Without his mother's permission? Shame," Cersei teased. "Shame," repeated the sheriff as he kissed her.

A/N: Oh snap! Who is the sheriff? And who is Nathan? I realize that there are a lot of questions to be answered, and don't worry they will be! As you can see I decided to go ahead and keep the characters' first names and just give them different last names as needed, so it will be less confusing to keep track of, for me and for you.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm so happy people are enjoying the story so far! I didn't think it would catch on like this J

LadyKatherine29: Thank you for the review! To answer a few of your comments, Cersei doesn't exactly have a problem with Catelyn herself, it is just that she is a Stark, and Cersei hates the Starks. Think about all the things those too families have gone through to get at eachother. I mentioned in the first chapter that all of Cersei's children are dead, so Nathan is not Tommen. But I agree with you about Tywin and Arya: they really make an interesting duo in the show! Thanks for reading!

I do not own GoT or its characters. The only one I own is Nathan :)

Chapter 3

Nathan had not, in fact, gone to spend the night at a friend's house. When Sheriff Jaime had shown up, he had been so eager to have alone time with the mayor that Nathan had easily lied his way out of the house. Instead, the boy headed to his favorite hideout: a tree-house in the woods, about a ten minute walk from the path behind his home. The night was chilly, but Nathan had brought plenty of blankets, and there were some in the tree-house left from when he had spent the night there last.

Normally he wouldn't have cared about being home while the Sheriff was over; he was a nice man, though Nathan couldn't really understand what he saw in his mother. But tonight…tonight Nathan wanted to think. The town of Crimson Island had been a dilemma to him as of late. Reaching the tree-house, he climbed up the ladder and swung his backpack onto the wooden floor. He pulled a lantern from the pack and lit it with some matches he had swiped from the kitchen drawer. Then he pulled out a notebook and pen. Laying on his stomach, Nathan made notes about Crimson island for the very first time.

"Number one," he wrote, "no one ages." He paused, then wrote, "I age." Lastly he listed, "No one seems to notice either of these." He put the cap back on the pen and studied the list. It was these three things that had begun to bother him. He had lived on Crimson Island all his life, never leaving, but it was only a year or so ago that he began to notice…something was strange. He had birthdays, and grew older. Right now he was ten. But none of the other children grew. When he entered a new grade, _only_ he entered the new grade. Then he began to pay attention to the adults in the town. None of them aged either. Which led to the most disturbing thought: why did no one notice this? Didn't anyone think this was strange? If not, then why was he the only one who did? Nathan tried to think of explanations for this, but noting that made sense or seemed logical came to his mind. "Not even my mother ages," he muttered. "Why does no one get older?" Frustrated, he slammed the notebook shut and curled up in his blankets. "There has to be a reason," he told the sky. He wasn't sure where to look for answers, and he didn't want to tell anyone else about this problem. They would think he was crazy, tell his mother, and then she would watch him like a hawk. She always did that whenever he got in the least bit of trouble.

But where could he go? He turned over and looked at his backpack, pulling out a book he was reading fro school. And stopped. Books. "The library!" he exclaimed. Surely there would answers there. Something about Crimson Island's history. Anything that could explain his questions. Tomorrow was Saturday; he would have plenty of time. "I will find answers," he said as he lay back down.

The morning was foggy, and Nathan's stomach growled, waking him up. With a yawn, he sat up and reached into his back-pack for a cereal bar. He rubbed eyes, trying to clear his head from sleep. Then he remembered what his mission was for that day: the library. Grinning, he climbed out of the tree-house and headed back up the path, careful to avoid going near his house, and instead veered off to the main road. The town had just started to come to life. Nathan hoped no one would notice him as he made his way to the library: a tall white building near the center of town, its peak becoming a clock tower. The clock was broken though, for the hands never turned.

Glancing around, Nathan pushed the door open and entered the warm library, a small bell announcing his presence. He took a deep breath and smiled. Books had the best kind of smell. He took a few steps towards the shelves and paused, unsure of where to start first. "Looking for something?" Nathan spun towards the front desk, startled, then relaxed. The librarian sat on a high stool, his desk piled high with thick books. Nathan walked over towards him. "Yes sir. Um…do you have a book about Crimson Island? It's for a school project." The man scratched his nose for a second. "All the records of Crimson Island were burned up in the fire a few years back." "Oh," Nathan answered, feeling crest-fallen. He had forgotten that a fire had started in the library back when he was little. It hadn't done much damage to the building, but it had taken quite a few books into the flames. "Sorry, kid," the short man said, not unkindly. Nathan nodded and started to walk away when a thought struck him. "Do you have any books on magic?" The librarian grinned. "Now those we have plenty of. Follow me." He hopped off the stool and led Nathan down a few rows of shelves before gesturing at a section. "Here is every book on magic we have." Nathan felt hope renew as he studied the different titles. _The History of Magic, Magic and Its Uses, The Art of Magic. _Even if he found no answers in these books, they would at least be interesting. He pulled them all and walked back to some tables near the front.

"Those for school too?" the librarian asked him as he settled back at the desk. "No sir. Just curious." Nathan paused. "Do you believe in magic, sir?" he asked. The short man chuckled. "I wouldn't say I _didn't_ believe in it." Nathan smiled and turned back to the book. He liked the librarian; if he found answers in these books, perhaps the short man was someone he could confide in. "And you don't have to call me 'sir', ok kid? Makes me feel old." "What should I call you then?" "Tyrion. Just Tyrion."

A/N: I'm sorry if this chapter was a little boring, but I wanted you all to get introduced to Nathan early in the story. Don't you just love Tyrion as the town librarian? I couldn't resist. Don't forget to review! I appreciate all the support! The chapters will get longer as I get my plans for the story together.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: For this story, I'm changing the ages of a few people. So Sansa will be 18, and Arya is 12. The timeline for this is a little shaky, but I'm gonna place it sometime after _A Dance With Dragons_. So everyone in the books who has died by that point will not be in the story.

Chapter 4

Cersei gazed out the window of her office, sipping a fresh cup of coffee. Jaime had left a couple hours ago, and she sat alone, a warm robe around her shoulders. She couldn't help but think over the years that had passed since they'd arrived to Crimson Island. The spell had worked better than she expected. Of course, since she had been the one to use it, she had retained all her memories from their world. It had been quite a shock to see this new, strange land the spell had brought them to. It wasn't long before she discovered that their town was nestled on an island, accessible only by ferry, and a magical barrier not only shielded them from the outside world, but it kept anyone from leaving. Cersei had influenced the spell so that anyone trying to escape the island would die.

She smirked. Why would anyone want to leave? They had everything they could want. Day after day passed, and the cursed people lived in a rhythm, their minds hazed, and unaware of the frozen time. Since time did not pass normally there, no one grew older. Everyone stayed exactly the age they were when she unleashed the spell. Everyone fell into a routine and occupation, just as if they had always been there. Adults worked, children went to school and played. And it was all run under the watchful eye of their mayor.

Draining the rest of her coffee, Cersei went to her bedroom to dress for the day, choosing black slacks, a collared shirt, and a blazer. She had to admit she enjoyed this world's clothing much more than her own. Her wardrobe gave her a sense of control and intimidation, which was what she wanted. She didn't need the people of the town to love her; just obey her. And they did. Oh, of course, there were a few rises in the crime rate now and then. Certain people that had crossed over couldn't contain themselves even in their new identities. But her spies and Jaime kept things well under control.

She sighed, gazing at herself in the mirror. She had kept her hair shoulder-length, but it was back to its natural blonde locks. _Much better_. Briefcase in hand, she left through the front door and headed to her car. She paused, thinking about Nathan. He was probably still at his friends' house, but she wished he would at least call her. She checked her cell phone to see no new messages. With a slight frown, she decided that she needed to get him his own phone. What handy little machines they turned out to be. She could get in contact with a number of people in seconds. _These definitely would have been useful in Westeros_. As she pulled out the driveway, it occurred to her that she had forgotten to ask Jaime which friend's house Nathan was staying at.

The diner stayed open later on the weekends. Sansa had had to work a double since Arya was sick. She sighed as she wiped a table down. Maybe I should bring her some soup, she thought with a smile. The two girls didn't always get along, but they were friends. And they were all each other had. The mayor told them that they were orphans; both their parents had died in a car accident; only the girls survived. Neither could really remember the incident or their parents, but the mayor said they had hit their heads hard and probably had amnesia. There were no orphanages on Crimson island, but the two girls had managed to get jobs at the diner, and someone had arranged for Arya to go to school.

Sansa sighed again, heading back to the closet to put away a broom and dust pan. She was grateful for the work at the diner: Catelyn let them eat the food there, and the tips allowed her and Arya to stay at Petyr's hotel. But she couldn't help feel a little stuck. She didn't want to work at the diner forever, did she? However, there wasn't much else for a girl of eighteen to do in a town this small.

She took off her apron and went to find Catelyn in her small office. "I've finished cleaning." "Thank you, Sansa. Here," Catelyn replied, handing the girl some folded bills. "Little bit extra for your work today." "Thank you, Catelyn." Sansa received the money gratefully. "Is there any soup left? I thought I would bring some to Arya." The older woman nodded. "You can heat it up before you bring it to her." Sansa nodded, and went back into the kitchen. She found the leftover soup and poured it into a carry-home carton, and heated it in the microwave. Then she put it in a bag. "Goodbye, Catelyn!" she called from the front door. "Are you sure you don't want to wait for me?" her boss asked. "I'll be fine. I want to get this soup to Arya." Sansa put on her coat and left the diner.

It wasn't as windy as the day before, but the air was still chilly. Sansa pulled her coat tighter, the arm carton banging softly against her leg as she walked. Glancing up, she saw that the sky was clear, and millions of stars twinkled at her. She smiled. Nighttime was her favorite time of the day. Everything was more peaceful. Well….some things. Sansa had to cross several streets to get to the hotel, and on one of the streets was a bar, which Petyr also owned. Arya had joked that Petyr had his fingers in every single business on Crimson Island.

Loud guffawing floated out from the bar, and three drunk men came out, singing and laughing. Sansa wrinkled her nose and continued to walk by, hopeing to pass invisible. One of the men stopped and called out to her. "Hey! Diner girl! Come hang out with us!" The others chimed in as well, encouraging her to come over. Sansa ignored them and sped up her walk. She was almost to the other sidewalk when a rough hand grabbed her arm and spun her around. It was the first man who had called out to her. "Where ya going? Didn't you hear me calling you?" His breath reeked of beer. Sansa tried to pull away from him. "Let me go. I'm going home." The man laughed. "Why don't you hang out with us instead?" He stepped closer, and Sansa's fist shot out, hitting him on the nose. The man howled and released her, but before she could run the other two man had grabbed her. One of them took the bag of soup and threw it against the wall. Sansa struggled, but even drunk these men were strong. The man she hit glared at her. "Now you've made me angry, diner girl. Boys, let's teach her a lesson." Laughing, the men started to drag her down the sidewalk towards an alleyway. Sansa realized where this was going and filling her lungs with air she screamed, "HELP!" One of the men slapped her then put his hand on her mouth. "Shut up!"

Now in the alleyway, they pushed her against the wall. Sansa still struggled as the first man she hit started to rip her coat off. "Stop! Please, stop!" The men only laughed. Sansa tried to knee one of them in the groin and was slapped again. "She sure is feisty," he laughed. Sansa was about to give up hope when one of the men was suddenly jerked away from her. Wide-eyed, she watched as a tall man slammed him into the other wall. The man slowly slid to the ground. The lighting was bad, but Sansa thought she saw blood streaming down the wall. Another of the drunk men rushed at the tall man, only to receive a punch to his face and another one to the stomach. The tall man kicked him aside and started for the last man, who was still holding Sansa. The man let go of her when he saw his companions lying on the ground. The stranger grabbed him. "Please..please let me go! It was only a bit of fun!" The stranger growled at him. "Touch her again, and I'll kill the lot of you," he rasped. Sansa drew a quick breath. She knew that voice.

The tall man punched the drunk in the face and let him fall. Then he turned to her. She shrank back, not sure whether to thank him or see him as a new foe. The smell of blood and dirt stung her nose and eyes. "You're ok now, girl," her rescuer said softly, placing a hand on her arm. The moonlight passed over the alley and Sansa could make out the burn scars on the right side of his face. Sandor the Hunter, he was called. He lived out in the woods somewhere. Sansa realized she was shivering. Her hands shook as she bent to pick up her coat. Sandor helped her put it on, then led her out of the alley.

She turned to him and took a deep breath. "Th-thank you, sir." Sandor humphed. "What are you doing walking around here at this hour?" "The diner closes late. Arya is home, sick." Sansa felt tears pricking her eyes and she quickly rubbed them with the back of her hand. For some reason she did not want to cry in front of this man. The Hunter said nothing for a moment, his dark eyes studying her. Then he sighed. "Come on, girl. I'll walk you home." Sansa almost protested, but she realized that it was probably a good idea. They fell into a walk side by side. Sansa could not think of anything to say to him, and he did not seem to be in a talkative mood himself. They didn't exchange a word until they reached the front door of the hotel.

"Thank you again, sir. That was…very brave of you." He snorted. "Those men are cowards. And don't call me 'sir'." Sansa bit her lip. "Sandor, then?" He nodded slowly, then, hesitantly, he brushed back a piece of her hair. His eyes transfixed Sansa. His good side was turned towards her, and the shadows fell on the burn. He withdrew his hand quickly. "Get inside before you die of cold or something else equally stupid," he growled. Sansa nodded and rushed into the hotel, letting the door slam behind her. She paused, then went to the window and looked out. She saw the Hunter walking slowly down the street. He was carrying a rifle. _When did he have that? _she wondered. He rounded a corner and disappeared. Sansa let a breath she didn't know she was holding, then crept quietly up the stairs towards the room she and Arya shared together.

She unlocked the door and creaked on its hinges. Arya sat up in bed. "Sansa?" "It's me." She closed the door, locked it, and turned on a lamp. "What happened to you?" Arya asked, climbing out of the bed. Sansa went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Her cheek was beginning bruise from the slaps she had received, and her lip was bleeding. "Some men from the bar attacked me," she said in a shaky voice. Arya's eyes rounded. "Sansa!" "It's ok," the older girl assured her, wetting a washcloth. "The Hunter- I mean, Sandor, must have heard me scream. He beat the men up and brought me back here." "The Hunter did? Really?" Arya leaned against the doorframe. "He must like you." "He does not! He was just…doing what any other respectable man would do." "Mhmmm…suureee," Arya giggled. "Go back to bed," Sansa said harshly. Then feeling bad, she asked how the other girl was feeling. "Better. I think I'll be able to work tomorrow," Arya said with a yawn and climbed back into the bed. "I was bringing you soup, but those men ruined it." Sansa shuddered as she thought of what she had escaped from. "It's ok. I'm glad you're safe." Sansa finished changing into pajamas and slipped under the covers. She was just beginning to drift off when "You just owe me soup tomorrow." Arya snickered as Sansa punched her in the arm.

A/N: Whew! Two chapters in one day! I wasn't planning on finishing this now, but I'm going out of town for a few days so I won't be able to update for a while. I know there will be questions about Nathan and Sandor, but just hang in there! You will find out.

Hope you enjoyed it, and please review!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Ok, so I waited to update until I had watched the Red Wedding, because I wanted to see what changes they made. So for those of you have seen it, I want you to keep in mind that one person who was killed in the show is actually still alive in the books, just not mentioned again…at least so far. Not sure what GRRM will do in the upcoming books. But, the books are what I'm basing a certain element of this story off of. In case it was overlooked earlier, this story has themes from the show AND the books. So everyone who is dead by ADWD will not be making an appearance. I apologize for any spoilers I include as the story develops, but that's just the way it has to be.

Thank you again for your reviews! And now, on to the chapter!

Chapter 5

Nathan had spent a good portion of the day in the library, reading about magic. Although the content was very interesting, nothing really jumped out at him as a possible explanation for Crimson Island's strange existence. He and Tyrion had rarely spoken again, but the silence was not awkward. Tyrion seemed as engrossed in his own books as Nathan was.

As noon came, Nathan decided to head back to his house to eat. He checked out one of the books he hadn't read yet. "Hope you find what you're looking for," Tyrion said softly as he handed the boy his library card. "Thanks, me too." Nathan wondered if perhaps the dwarf knew more than he let on.

The day was crisp and cool. Nathan walked down the streets of town towards his home, his mind reeling with what he had been reading the past couple hours. Magic was much more complicated than he had assumed. And difficult to understand. There were so many different kinds, and some were precise, yet some were vague and depended on the user. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely missed colliding with someone. "I'm sorry!" he said, gazing up at the man. He realized it was the Hunter. The scarred man studied him with black eyes and shifted his rifle on his shoulder. "Watch it, kid." Nathan took in the man's heavy leather coat and gun, then worked his way up to the man's face. He didn't look angry, but he didn't look particularly friendly either. Or maybe the burns just gave him a more fearsome look. Nathan watched the man as he walked past him, adjusting the rifle. He trudged to an old pick-up truck and opened the cab door. A large dog poked its head up from the truck bed and gave a welcoming woof to its master. Sandor patted the dog on the head before getting into the truck. Nathan continued watching him curiously. He didn't know much about the Hunter, except that he kept to himself, and he was the best marksman the town had. He never failed in delivering good meat to the local butcher's. Nathan had heard he frequented the diner, but other than that the man avoided most social interactions. He gave off an air of solitude and danger.

Nathan turned and walked down a couple more streets until he reached his house. He dug into his backpack and found the spare key. Unlocking the door, he poked his head inside and glanced around. His mother's car wasn't in the driveway, but Nathan had a nagging feeling that she might pop out of nowhere. Satisfied that the house was empty, he rummaged in the kitchen for lunch and settled for a sandwich. Then he returned to the tree house. Nathan examined the worn cover of the book. _A Study of Spells and Their Properties_, read the cover. Hoping beyond hope that this wasn't another dead end, Nathan flipped to the first page. He wasn't sure why the idea of magic had gripped him in the library. It just seemed like a possibility at the time; an answer to why he was the only one to notice something strange about Crimson Island and the townspeople. And if they were under some kind of spell, what then? Nathan decided to cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, he studied the titles of the different chapters, willing one of them to provide a solution. His eye fell on one.

"Are you under a spell?" The boy laughed at the irony of the chapter, but decided to read on. "It is entirely possible to be under the influence of a spell and not realize it. The spell can be crafted in such a way that the victim is unaware of being influenced, and will simply follow the spell's commands." Nathan turned the page. "Spells such as these include many properties. The victim, while under the spell, may not comprehend certain events around them, or even understand circumstances happening to themselves. This form is often used as a controlling spell, allowing the caster to dominion over the minds of his victims, while they remain unaware of the spell's existence and influence."

Nathan gripped the book tighter. He felt like he couldn't breath. This was it! "Spells such as these are not limited to people. The can be used to influence time, space, and other occurrences. These wider range spells are very difficult to perform and keep control of, yet all involved will remain under the spell for an indefinite amount of time until a counter spell is used or the caster relinquishes their power over the victim and/or the space." Nathan dropped the book on the floor of the tree house and leaned back, trying to digest what he had just read. Although there were still some things to be explained, he felt like he had found an answer. The book seemed to describe the townspeople and their surroundings. "They don't know they are under a spell. And they don't notice time, or the lack of time." He glanced back down at the book, a wave of uneasiness hitting him. Now that he had found the answer, more questions formed in his mind. Who could have cast a spell this powerful, and why? What did they gain by keeping everyone in a daze? And why was he unaffected?

"The boy went to the library, went home, then went to his tree house." Cersei studied the man from where she sat at her desk. He was someone who had been in her employment back in Westeros, and she had made sure he remained there in this world. "Thank you. You may leave." The man left, and Cersei turned in her black leather chair to gaze out the window of her office. Nathan had not been anywhere unusual, but she could not shake a feeling of dread of him going to the library. Her brother, the Imp, worked there. Cersei had not had much reason to interact with Tyrion since the curse took effect; the dwarf hid in his mountains of books and only appeared for town parties and celebrations, and he had kept out of trouble. But Cersei wouldn't put it past him to be a bad influence on Nathan.

She sighed, and slammed shut the notebook on her desk. She really did not want to make a trip to the library. But she was interested to know why Nathan had been inclined to go there and spend such a large portion of the day inside. He liked to read, she knew, but rarely indoors. He preferred his tree-house or the lake. So what had he found that had kept him so engrossed?

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I had a hard time putting what I wanted into words. But I promise the story is going to start picking it up a notch!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Cersei pushed open the heavy door to the library and stepped in, the warm air hitting her face. She glanced around for Tyrion and noted him sitting at a desk not far away. He gazed up her. "Ah, Madam Mayor. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?" Cersei fought to keep from grimacing. He was so vile. Even under the spell he seemed to be laughing at her. His mismatched eyes studied her as she walked forward. "I was looking for my son. I had heard he was in the library today." She rested her gloved hands on the desk, watching him sharply.

Tyrion nodded, licking a finger as he turned a page in the volume he was reading. "Yes, Nathan was here earlier. I'm afraid you missed him," the dwarf informed her calmly. "I see." Cersei paused. "Did he check out any books?" "Yes, one or two." The dwarf continued reading. Cersei felt herself losing patience. "What books did he check out?" Tyrion glanced up at her again. She felt her skin crawl as his mismatched eyes met hers. She had almost forgotten how much she hated him.

Tyrion regarded her for a few moments before reaching into a cabinet next to him and flipping through some cards. "Let's see…he checked out _A Journey to the Center of the Earth_ and _Peter Pan_." The dwarf looked at her again. "Fairly innocent books, Madam Mayor. If you were worried about him checking out anything more….well, adult, I would never have let him walk with such a read, I assure you." His sarcasm was not missed by Cersei. He was laughing at her. She reddened, but held her calm. "Thank you, dwarf." She turned and walked out, anxious to be away from her poisonous brother and his eyes.

It had been a pretty calm night so far. Jaime had circled the town a few times in the patrol car, and now he relaxed at the station, waiting for either a call or for when it was time to patrol again. He leaned back in his chair, eating a donut and reading the daily paper. "Brienne, how's that coffee going?" "It's coming along," a woman's voice called from the other room. Jaime chuckled, hoping that it wasn't burnt this time, or have grinds in it. Deputy Brienne entered the room, walking slowly with two cups in her hand. She set one down on his desk and sat in another chair across from him, sipping hers. Jaime glanced at the brew and took a sip. "Not bad! Looks like you've finally succeeded in making a cup of joe." Brienne rolled her eyes but grinned. She was the tallest woman in town, as big as a man. She was not beautiful, with her short blond hair, large hands, and torn face. But she was the best deputy Jaime could have had, and he was grateful for her company. The station could get lonely sometimes.

He studied her now as she took a page of the paper to read. The doctors in town had been able to improve her face, the result of a police incident, but her cheek was still scarred. Brienne declined using makeup. She had never cared about her appearance, and she wasn't going to start now. But despite her looks, she was a warm, dutiful person, and well-liked in the town. Mayor Cersei had done well to appoint her, earning favor with the town for putting a woman on the police force.

Voices were suddenly heard outside, and the pair set down their coffee and turned to the door of the office as a group of men burst in. Two of them were limping and carrying another between them. They all had blood on their clothes and bruises of various shades forming on their faces. The man in the middle looked like his nose was broken and some teeth knocked out. "What happened?" Brienne asked as she hurried over to help the man sit down. She wrinkled her nose as the smell of beer wafted through the office. "I'll tell you what happened!" One of the men propped himself up on the wall. "That crazy Hunter, that's what happened!" Jaime furrowed his brow. "The Hunter? Sandor?" "Yea Sheriff! Him. He just tore into us for no reason. And he had a gun! Coulda killed us all."

Brienne and Jaime exchanged a look. The Hunter was a large, built man, good with a gun and kept to himself. He used to go to a couple of the bars in the past, but after a while he stopped going and stayed in his home in the woods. Besides a couple of fights (which were provoked), Jaime had never really had trouble with the man. It didn't make sense that he would just suddenly tear into these men…unless they had invaded his space. "Tell us exactly what happened." Jaime was all business as he pulled out a recorder and set it on his desk. Brienne went to get a first aid kit.

"Like I told you, Sheriff. We were just leaving the bar, only had a couple drinks, and we was taking a short cut through an alley when he just showed up and wailed on us. He had to have been drinking." "Yea, his eyes turned red too. I thought he would kill us all and put us in the freezer that he keeps the animals in," the second man insisted. Jaime took a few notes. Brienne returned and began cleaning up the third man's face, wincing as his nose was turning a purple and blue color. "Sheriff, I think it would be wise to get these men to the clinic to be looked at." Jaime nodded and stood. "I'll pay a visit to the Hunter tomorrow morning." Brienne helped the men outside and loaded them into her squad car.

Jaime sat back down at his desk and sighed, reaching for his coffee that was not as hot as he'd like. "So much for an easy night," he told Brienne's forgotten cup of coffee.

A/N: Dun dun dun! Why did Tyrion lie to Cersei about the books? And what's going to happen to Sandor? Thanks for reading, and please review!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Jaime had decided to visit Clegane's place by himself. It would look less threatening if only one cop showed up, and besides, if Sandor had really done what those men claimed, then anything might set him off. Two cops could look intimidating, but one was simply expected. Brienne remained at the station, but Jaime knew she would be glued to her phone.

He drove down a narrow dirt road that led out of town into the woods. He had only been to the Hunter's house once a long time ago, back when the man was a ore frequent visitor of the bars. Jaime liked the woods, but he couldn't imagine actually living out there. For someone who wanted solace, however, it was perfect. The trees provided a canopy, and the many paths and inner workings of the forest were unknown to most of the townspeople. Jaime was aware that the Hunter could probably disappear and no one would ever know.

He finally pulled the squad car into a clearing, where a small wooden house lay tucked in the surrounding trees. A worn truck was parked nearby, and a shed stood off to the side. Probably where he keeps his guns, Jaime mused. He stepped out of the car and shut the door, not a slam, but loud enough to let someone know he was here. A large, wolfish-looking dog was laying on the porch, and at Jaime's approach it lifted its head barked. He paused, unsure of the large animal. The dog sat up on its haunches and watched Jaime with sharp black eyes.

The front door to the house opened, and the Hunter stepped out. He wore an old white t-shirt and pair of jeans and looked completely unsurprised at Jaime's appearance on his doorstep. The tall man gave the dog a pat on the head. "What can I do for you, Sheriff?" he asked in a low, gravelly voice. Jaime regarded them and stepped forward carefully. "It seems we had a bit of an incident last night. Three men showed up at the station, covered in blood and bruises, and claimed that you attacked them." He waited for the Hunter say something, but the man only fixed him with his deep gray eyes and said nothing. His had continued to pet the dog. "Do you know why they would have claimed this?" Jaime asked, trying to keep his voice light. He was not afraid of the Hunter, but he wasn't a man he wanted to upset either.

The Hunter stared at the Sheriff for a few moments before answering. "Aye, because I did it." Jaime blinked. "I see. And why did you do this, Sandor? They said you had been drinking and had your gun with you." The Hunter snorted and came to lean his muscled arms on the porch railing. "I had my gun, but I wasn't drinking, Sheriff. I was headed home from dropping some game off. Left the truck. I like to walk sometimes. Heard some screaming from an alley nearby and found the three men about to rape the girl from the diner." His fists clenched the railing for a second before he continued. "So I stopped them." Jaime stared at him. "The girl from the diner?" "Aye…the red haired one." Jaime nodded, feeling an odd mix of guilt and surprise. The Hunter had actually done the right thing, perhaps a little excessive, but Jaime had been ready to expect the worst. "You did the right thing, Sandor. I will be investigating this further. Those men won't get away with attempted rape." The Hunter snorted again, like he didn't believe Jaime, but said nothing.

Jaime said goodbye and returned to the squad car. Once inside, he watched as the Hunter stayed on the porch, but sat down on the steps next to the dog. He reached for his phone and called Brienne. "Sheriff?" "Yes, Brienne. I just talked to the Hunter. Looks like we are going to have some cells to fill. Turns out he saved a girl from being raped. She works at the diner. I'm going to go talk to her now." "Alright, Jaime. I'll head back to the clinc and find those men so we can question them further." The Sheriff hung up and pulled away from Clegane's property, heading back to town. Relieved as he was that Sandor was not in the wrong, it made him angry that the men had tried to rape a girl, then actually have the gall to show up to the station and try to blame the Hunter.

He pulled up to the diner about twenty minutes later. It was busy with the usual morning crowd, and he realized that he had not eaten that morning. Pulling the door open, he was greeted with the smell of bacon and pancakes and coffee. Spotting Catelyn over by the counter, he strode over and took a seat. "Morning, Sheriff. What'll it be?" Catelyn asked briskly. "Actually, I was wondering if I might have a word with one of the girls that work here. The red-haired one?" Catelyn studied him, then leaned towards the kitchen and called, "Sansa!" A moment later, a tall, slim girl came behind the counter. Jaime greeted her pleasantly. "Hello, Sansa. I was hoping I could have a word with you in private?" The girl's eyes widened. "It's alright," he said quickly. "You're not in trouble." She bit her lip and glanced at Catelyn. "You can go in my office." They led him around the counter towards the back room, and Catelyn shut the door. Jaime fixed his eyes on the girl in front of him. She was pretty: pale skin, bright blue eyes, and long red hair. He couldn't help but wonder if the Hunter's saving her had more to it.

"Sansa, I wanted to talk to you about a report we received last night." She looked troubled. "The Hunter…he was only trying to save me," she whispered. "So those men…they were trying to…" Jaime winced, suddenly wishing he had sent Brienne to do this. "The girl nodded. "Yes. The Hunter…Sandor…he stopped them from hurting me. He walked me home too." Jaime nodded. "Thank you, Sansa, you've been a great help." He paused. "Are you alright?" She nodded. "Good." He smiled at her and opened the door.

Nathan sat on the swing, staring idly off into space. The other children raced around him in various activities, enjoying recess, but he didn't feel like joining them. His mind was still swimming with what he'd read the day before, and now he was sure he needed to tell someone. But who? Who could he tell without them thinking he was crazy and telling his mother. And if she found out….Nathan shuddered. She'd probably send him to a shrink.

It haunted him to know that the whole town was under a spell of some sort. He wanted to know the reason. And he had nowhere to start. Watching the other children play made him sad: they were under the influence of magic and didn't even know it. Even Miss Margaery was under it. He figured telling an adult was out the window. They would only tell him that he was imagining things, then tell his mom. No, it needed to be someone younger, but not his age, because they would probably laugh at him. He needed someone smart, and aware.

Across the yard an older girl and boy were sword fighting with sticks. The girl had short, messy brown hair. Nathan knew she worked at the diner sometimes, but he had never spoken to her. She attacked the boy with ease, twirling the stick sword from his hand. The boy scowled and said something to her. She leaned forward and said something back to him. Nathan couldn't hear, but whatever she said, it was enough to make the boy back away and run. The girl straightened and glanced around the yard, until her brown eyes fell on Nathan. She watched him for a moment, then came over and sat on the swing next to him. "What did you say to make him run?" Nathan asked. She gave him a wolfish smile. "I'll never tell." He smiled back, curious. Maybe….

"I'm Arya." The girl stuck a dirty brown hand towards him. "Nathan." He shook her hand. She nodded. "The Mayor's son." "Yep." They sat in silence. "Why aren't you running around with other kids?" Arya asked. "I have a lot on my mind." "Oh really? Like what?" He shrugged. "Just…stuff." She poked his arm. "Tell me." "You'll laugh." "I won't! Promise." She made a cross over her heart. Nathan bit his lip as he gazed at her face. Her eyes were a dark brown, and she seemed friendly enough. "Alright…I'll tell you. But not here. It's a big secret. You can't tell anyone." Arya nodded, leaning forward. "Where?" Nathan thought for a moment. "My tree-house. You can come with me after school." "I work, but I'll just show up late. Catelyn won't care," Arya said with a grin. "And I'll keep your secret. I'm the best at keeping secrets." Nathan nodded. He hoped so.

A/N: Awwww yuh! Arya and Nathan joining forces! Thanks for reading, and please review!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nathan waited outside the school nervously, hoping that Arya hadn't just been pulling his leg. He still didn't know why she had shown a sudden interest in him, or why she had been eager to not only hear what he had to say, but willing to keep it a secret. Maybe it was fate? Nathan felt like anything was possible if the town was truly under a magic spell. Perhaps Arya had noticed something strange too? Was the spell weak in some way? He shook his head. He needed to keep reading that book.

"I'm here," a voice spoke behind him. Nathan whirled to see Arya standing there, adjusting her backpack straps. "Where to?" "This way." Nathan turned and began walking, taking the shortest route to his tree-house. Arya followed at his side. The two shared some mild conversation, mostly about the school and whether or not Miss Margaery had a boyfriend. Arya thought she had villain eyes. "What kind of eyes?" Nathan asked. "Villain eyes. You know, in the cartoons, villains' eyes are always drawn a certain way, to make them more menacing. Especially the women. They're always slanted, and wear too much eyeliner." Nathan laughed. This girl sure had an imagination. That could be a good thing though. She might be more willing to believe the town was under a magic spell if she was certain Miss Margaery was a villainous woman.

They arrived at the tree-house and Arya followed Nathan up the ladder. "hey, this is really cool!" she said, looking around. She spotted the pile of books on the floor and picked one up. Nathan glanced out all the windows, then turned back towards her. "Ok. What I'm going to tell you cannot leave this tree-house." Arya nodded. "I told you I promised didn't I?" He nodded, then sat on the floor and sighed, trying to figure out how to explain things to her in a way that didn't make him sound like a crazy person. Arya joined him on the floor, crossing her legs.

He took a deep breath. "I have…reason to believe that….the town, and Crimson Island as a whole, is under….a magic spell." He bit his lip and waited for her to laugh, to smile, to get up and leave. She did neither. The girl watched him with a serious expression her face. "Really? Why do you think that?" Encouraged, Nathan leaned forward. "Well…I've noticed some weird things. Like…no one ever ages here. You, yourself….you're the exact same age as I've ever known you to be. My mom is the same age. No one changes….no one gets any older. Doesn't that seem strange to you?" Arya furrowed her brow and seemed to be thinking. "I….never noticed…" she said hesitantly. "Also…I'm the only one to age. My mom adopted me as a baby almost ten years ago. I've grown, but no one else does." He studied her, trying to read her expression. "I… I think I remember when the Mayor had you as a baby," Arya confessed. "It's kind of blurry though. Like a dream." She turned to him quickly. "And you think…that it's a spell?" Nathan nodded again and tapped the book in her hand. "I found this at the library. It says that there are some widespread spells that can cover many people and influence their whole being to see or believe whatever the caster wants them to. And many times they won't even realize that they're under a spell." Arya's eyes grew wide as she digested the information. "But…that can't be…magic isn't real, Nathan." "Then how do explain me?" he asked spreading his arms wide. "How do you explain no one noticing time?" She shook her head. 'I don't know…what you say seems to make sense…but at the same time…it's crazy…" she looked down at the book. "Can I take this?" Nathan hesitated. "I won't lose it, I promise," the girl said. "I just want to read about it for myself." "Ok…I need it back soon though. It's from the library." Arya stood up and put the book in her back-pack. "I have to go to the diner now. But," she turned towards him as she began to climb down the ladder, "I will think about what you said." Her brow furrowed again, and she slowly climbed down. Nathan took a deep breath. He finally told someone. He could only hope that Arya would fully believe him.

Sansa was a bundle of nerves after the Sheriff left, taking two coffees with him. He had been nice enough, but she was worried that Sandor would be in trouble for how badly he'd beaten the men. The rest of the day she served and cleaned tables in a daze, wondering if he was going to come in that night. He usually ate dinner there two or three times a night. Sansa flushed as she remembered how she'd tried to get out of serving him, and she felt bad. She'd been avoiding him like the plague and then he had rescued her. She wanted to do something for him, but wasn't sure what. The Hunter didn't seem the type of man who wanted recognition for his good deeds, or at least the one deed. Maybe she could see if Catelyn would agree to make his meal on the house.

The front door opened, and Arya swept in. "There you are!" Catelyn scolded from behind the counter. "You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, Arya." "Sorry, Catelyn. I had to….stay late at school." Her boss narrowed her eyes and followed Arya to the back. "What did you do this time?" Sansa asked as she waited on an order. "Blew up a toilet again," Arya snickered. Sansa and Catelyn looked at each other and rolled their eyes. "Well, you're here now. Table four needs refills." Catelyn went back to the front, and Sansa headed out with a plate. Arya grabbed a clean pitcher and filled it with sweet tea and headed over to the table, wondering when she would have a chance to read Nathan's book.

The afternoon was busier than usual, and twilight slowly crept over the town. More people came in for dinner, and the girls had their hands full, rushing back and forth with plates of food and refilling cups. Arya was cleaning a table when he came in. The tall, scarred man trudged towards the table she was finishing wiping down and sat. Arya glanced him over and bit back a smirk as she gathered the washcloth and cleaner in her arms. "Sansa will serve you in a minute," she informed him and raced away before he could open his mouth.

Dumping the cleaning products off, Arya poked her head around the door of the kitchen where Sansa was pouring a fresh cup of tea for someone. "Hey, Sansa, you're knight in shining armor is here," she teased, wiggling her eyebrows. Sansa jumped and nearly spilled the drink. "Better go take his order. He looks like he's in a foul mood." Arya disappeared before Sansa could protest. She sighed and nervously headed out with the tea, stopping first to drop it off at another table, then approached his booth shyly. She pulled out her pad and stood at the edge of the table. He was almost taller than her even sitting down.

"What can I get for you?" she asked softly. The Hunter's dark grey eyes glanced up at her. "The usual," he rasped. She nodded and hesitated, wondering if she should say something to him about the Sheriff's visit earlier. His roamed over her before fixing on her face again, and Sansa felt as if they were burning her. "Are you alright, girl?" he asked. She jumped and realized she'd been staring at him. Blushing she tucked away her pad. "Y-yes…sorry." She started to hurry away when a strong hand grabbed her wrist and held her back. "I mean, are you alright…about what happened?" he rasped in a lower voice, his eyes boring into hers. Sansa's breath hitched as she realized what he was asking. "Oh….yes. Thank you." She paused as he slowly released her wrist.

She leaned forward, pretending to arrange something on the table. "The Sheriff came in this morning, asking about it." She glanced at him again. "Figured he would," the Hunter answered. "Did he…talk to you?" He nodded, but offered no other details. Sansa straightened and walked away to get his order.

A/N: Sigh….I just can't resist the SanSan for this story. And it's going to mean something later on. I have big plans for them ;) Thanks for reading, and please review!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Nathan picked at his food and watched his mother out of the corner of his eyes. She had changed from her usual business attire and was busy looking over some papers while she ate. So far, she had not asked him anything unusual about his day. He had been worried that she would question him about visiting the library for so long yesterday, but it hadn't entered their conversation. Nathan knew his mother had people watching the comings and goings of the town; it only made sense that she should have him followed. Though he had never given her any reason to mistrust him.

Nathan wondered absently if his mother knew anything about the spell. She was a very important person in town, if not the most important. Everyone in town had a specific job; he wondered how she had ended up being the mayor. While not everyone actually liked her, she was a respected individual and had made it clear that she was not a woman to be trifled with. And she won re-election year after year.

"Did you hear me?" Cersei's voice broke through his thoughts. "Oh…sorry, Mom, I wasn't listening." "You're not very talkative tonight," Cersei said, pushing the papers aside. "Is something on your mind?" Nathan searched her face. She was his mother, someone he was supposed to be able to trust. He decided to test the waters. "Mom…do you think that…magic is real?" Silence filled the dining room. Cersei studied her son for a few moments. She let a smile break over her face. "Of course not, Nathan, honey. Magic isn't real. It's make-believe." She seemed to brush it off, but Nathan couldn't help noticing tightness around her eyes. He decided to push further. "Why? How do you know it's not real?" Cersei looked back at him, her smile fading. She leaned forward. "Nathan, listen to me. Magic does not exist. It's something from fairytales." She paused. "In fact, it's very dangerous to think that magic is real. Life is based on facts, on realistic occurrences. Things that can be proven logically." "But…what if you could prove something was magic?" Nathan asked. "Like what?" He should have stopped at the tone in Cersei's voice, but he continued. "Like…a spell."

Nathan instantly knew he'd said the wrong thing. Silence filled the room once more, and several expressions passed over his mother's face. "I think this conversation is over, Nathan," Cersei said coldly. "You may go to your room." Nathan quickly stood up and made his way to the door when Cersei's voice reached him again. "I want you to drop this nonsense about magic, Nathan. Don't ever speak of it again." Nathan nodded, and headed up the stairs to his room. Once inside, he shut the door and locked it, his heart thumping in his chest. She was so angry! But why? All he had done was ask innocent questions. Didn't other kids wonder about magic? It was all in those Disney movies. Nathan bit his lip and sat down on the bed. He decided it was a good idea that he had let Arya borrow the magic book. That way if his mother or one of her minions went snooping, they would only find storybooks.

His mind wandered back to the conversation. His mother had seemed adamant against him asking questions about magic, but in her eyes he had seen fear. She was actually afraid of magic…or at least the idea of it. He sighed. This was getting more complicated than he anticipated. He could only hope that Arya would read the book….and believe him.

Arya groaned and wiped a lock of dark hair out of her eyes. She had been scrubbing the floor of the diner where a customer had spilled tomato sauce all over the neat white and black-checkered floor, and she was about to throw the brush through a window. If that blasted sauce wasn't coming up now, it never would. And she was not going to waste the rest of the night scrubbing at the orange stain when she had more important things to do.

Even though the diner had been extremely busy, Arya couldn't take her mind off of what Nathan had told her earlier that day. According to him, the entire town and its inhabitants were under some sort of spell. But the way he described it made it sound more like a curse. _What if we really are?_ Arya thought as she tossed the brush into the pail of soapy water and straightened. _I guess that book will explain things. _She had not had time to even read one sentence the entire night, and Arya was dying out of curiosity. She had been skeptical when Nathan first told her, but after seeing the serious look on his face, a strange feeling had washed over her, and she had been unable to resist borrowing the book.

Picking up the pail and turning around, she noticed that the Hunter was still sitting at his booth, drinking a beer. She scowled and checked her watch. It was late…what was he still doing here? She stomped over. "Hey, we close in five minutes, you know," she said. Catelyn was in her office, so Arya felt like she could speak freely. Sure, she was grateful to the Hunter for saving Sansa, but seriously…it was time to go home.

He raised his stormy grey eyes to meet her brown ones. "Then I still have five minutes to drink my beer, don't I?" he snarled. Arya narrowed her eyes. Sansa and everyone else might walk on eggshells around this man, but not her! "I hope you don't plan on driving home. That's like your fifth drink." Sandor arched an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're worried about me now." "No!" Arya exclaimed. "I don't want the diner or Catelyn to get a bad rep because they find you wrapped around a tree tomorrow morning." She contemplated throwing the bucket of soapy water at him, but decided to walk away instead. She had been practicing self-control lately. Besides, it wouldn't give him the chance to say something back.

She smirked and walked into the kitchen where Sansa was hanging up her apron. "The Hunter is still here," Arya complained to her. Sansa paused for a moment. "I know. He just paid his check." "Well go tell him to get lost! I want to go home!" "Arya! He's a customer. We can't just kick him out." Arya fumed. "Watch me." She started to walk back out. "ARYA!" Sansa hissed and lurched forward, trying to grab the other girl's arm. She ended up latching onto Arya's sleeve, but the younger girl was much stronger and gave Sansa a yank. They both lost their footing on the tile and came crashing to the floor outside the kitchen, by the counter. Arya felt her head hit the tile with a crack as Sansa sprawled awkwardly on top of her. "Dammit, Sansa!" Arya howled. "Are you trying to kill me?!" Sansa tried lifting herself off. "This isn't my fault! If you hadn't come raging out here like a lunatic…" her sentence stopped, and she hastily pulled away, fixing her skirt and her hair. Arya looked upside down and saw the Hunter standing by the front door, staring at them with an amused expression on his face. Arya pointed a finger at him. "Get lost!" He started laughing, his rough voice filling the room.

Catelyn chose that moment to materialize out of her office. "What are you two doing now?" she asked, clearly unhappy with all the noise. She stopped when she saw Sandor still in the diner. "Oh…sir, please excuse these girls..." Sandor walked over to Sansa and offered her a hand. The red head glanced at it shyly before taking it. He pulled her up with one quick jerk. Arya pushed herself to her feet and glowered as the big man turned his eyes on her. "You can go now!" "Arya, don't be rude," Catelyn admonished. The girl rolled her eyes and continued glaring at Sandor. "The bitch can bite," the Hunter growled quietly. Arya's eyes grew wide and she balled her fists. "You wanna go? I'll take you out right now!" The world froze as she locked into a deadly stare with the Hunter. Catelyn was saying something behind her, but Arya blocked out the words. To the right, Sansa was against the wall, her face matching her hair and looking like she wanted to disappear.

"You think I'm gonna fight you, girl? Screw that," the Hunter snarled. He had bared his teeth slightly, but his eyes still held amusement. Arya snorted. "What, are you scared?" "Arya! That is enough!" Catelyn finally broke through, grabbing the girl by the arm and pushing her towards the office. Arya looked over her shoulder at the Hunter. "This isn't over," she hissed to him, a deadly tone to her voice. They disappeared into the office.

Sansa had remained frozen against the wall since Sandor had helped her up, unwilling to enter the confrontation. She knew that gleam in Arya's eye, and she knew that it was best to stay far away. But now she realized she was alone in the room with the Hunter. She swallowed and glanced at his face. He didn't look too angry, but it was hard to tell wince his scars made him look fierce already. She cleared her throat. "I'll…um…go lock the door…that is, if you're ready to go." His eyes swung from the closed office door to hers. They looked darker than usual. He gave her a smirk. "Sure." He turned and headed to the door, Sansa following him.

As he stepped outside and Sansa was about to put the keys in the lock he turned back to her. "Is she always like that?" he asked gruffly. Sansa licked her lips nervously. "Sometimes." Her answer seemed to amuse him and he chuckled, stepping away towards his battered truck. Sansa gasped. "Are you really going to drive home after drinking?" she asked. The cold air whipped at her skirt and she pulled her arms around her tightly. The Hunter studied her with a lazy grin. "It takes more than a few beers to mess me up, girl. I'll be fine." He climbed into the truck and a few seconds later the engine roared to life. Sansa stepped back into the diner and locked the door.

A/N: I need to make a correction to an earlier author's note regarding the Red Wedding. There is actually two people who survive the wedding; one is mentioned a bit in books 4 and 5, and other is not mentioned at all yet.

Well, how about a nice Sandor/Arya showdown? While I was writing this I kept thinking of the music theme from Clint Eastwood's the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly lol. Thanks for reading, and please review! 3


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Wooo! Nice long chapter! By the way, I just want to thank everyone who reads this story. You guys are the best, and I'm glad you are enjoying it so much!

Chapter 10

Cersei threw the dishes into the dishwasher with a slam. She couldn't forget the conversation between them earlier at dinner. "Why now?" she asked her reflection in the window above the sink. "Why is he asking questions now?" Well, he was bound to, sooner or later. She had hoped the spell had fogged his mind as well, but that didn't seem to be the case anymore. The boy was asking questions, dangerous questions, and she had turned on defensive mode.

She could have kicked herself now, thinking about her responses. "I shouldn't have snapped at him," she muttered, wiping the counter down. "Now he's bound to be suspicious of my actions." If Nathan was already asking questions about magic, that meant that he had been studying his surroundings for a while, trying to find an explanation. That was what worried her most, and she had let that worry take over her better judgment and give her son the wrong answers.

But now, Cersei wasn't sure what to do. If Nathan continued investigating the magic concept, and if he discovered that they were in fact under a spell, he could try to bring other people from the outside world in. He could try to run away. Or he could try to convince everyone what was happening to them.

That last option she quickly discarded. No one would believe Nathan if he went around spreading a story about magic. The spell had them blinded, and not even the truth would set them free, because it would be against their capacity to understand it. But she still didn't want her son causing a ruckus in the town. They had dreamed peacefully for years, and she wasn't ready to face this kind of commotion.

With a sigh, Cersei turned off the light in the kitchen and headed up the stairs to the second story, suddenly feeling tired. As she passed Nathan's room, she paused, wondering if she should speak to him about it. She shook her head, knocked on the door, and opened it a crack. "Nathan?" "Yea, Mom?" "Goodnight, honey." "Night, Mom." "I love you." _So much. _There was a pause. "Love you too." Satisfied that he didn't seem angry about earlier, Cersei closed the door and headed for her own room. And at the moment she knew what she needed to do. Who she needed to see. _Him. _So far, Cersei hadn't required any contact with Him. Everything had run smoothly until now. But Nathan…she just couldn't allow the possibility of this curiosity about magic to go any further. "I love you, Nathan," she whispered as she leaned against her door. "It's what's best for you." Resolved, she began to ready herself for bed. She would pay a visit to Him tomorrow.

Sansa was mad at her. Arya normally shrugged this off, knowing Sansa would get over it, but now that her own anger ad faded, she realized how she had acted had been a bit childish. The reprimand Catelyn had given her in the office had lasted about twenty minutes. Arya had tuned out most of it, nodding her head and keeping her eyes down. Sansa had not spoken a word to her the whole walk home until they were in their room. "Really, Arya?" she had said. "Why did you have to act like that?" "What? He made me mad." Arya had defended herself. She had had a rough night at the diner, there was that stupid sauce staing that wouldn't come up, and she had not had a chance to learn about magic. The Hunter laughing at her had only fueled the flames to Arya's already short temper.

Sansa rolled her eyes and huffed off to the bathroom to shower. As soon as Arya heard the water running, she grabbed Nathan's book out of her back-pack. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she opened the cover and began to flip through the pages. Most of it was pretty heavy stuff. About half-way through she saw a little piece of paper sticking out. She turned to that page and found the chapter _Are You Under a Spell_? She snickered. How convenient. But Nathan, or somebody, had obviously marked it, so she began reading. Slowly her eyes began to widen as the words jumped off the page at her. "What…." It was just as Nathan said! "But does this mean….we really are under a curse?"

The bathroom door opened. "Who are you talking to?" Sansa asked, wrapped in a towel, her long red hair hanging wet down her back as she walked to the dresser to pull out pj's. "Myself. I'm very interesting." Arya quickly shoved the book back in her bag. "What's that?" "Nothing, just something for school." She took a shower next, pondering the words in the book and what Nathan had explained to her. A strange tingle ran down her spine. Come to think of it….she _had _felt like she had been 12 for a long time. But she'd never questioned it before. Why should she? But if Nathan was aging, and no one else was…the only explanation could be magic, right? And since no one seemed to realize this phenomenon, it tied in with what the book said, about being under the influence of a spell and not knowing it. She gulped. Who would do such a thing?

Cersei pulled the car up to the school and looked at Nathan. He hadn't said much all morning, but she had seen his hesitance about being driven to school. "Have a good day, Nathan," she tried to say brightly. "Yea…you too." He gave her an absent-minded smile and climbed out of the car. Cersei watched him walk through the double doors before pulling away. She drove down the main street of town, nodding and waving to passersby who saw her. She couldn't really give two cents about those people, but it was important to keep a good image. It was expected of her, as mayor.

She pulled up to a shop on the corner, near the library. The sign above it read _Pawn and Antique Shop_ in faded gold letters. Taking a deep breath, she got of the car and pushed the door open. A little bell tinkled somewhere, and Cersei dug her hands down in her coat pockets, glancing around the store. It was filled with the usual odds and ends one might find in such a shop, but scattered here and there were objects from Westeros. Swords hung on a wall to her right. Under some of the glass cases she saw a couple trinkets she recognized from King's Landing. Shuddering, she turned away, focusing instead on the counter at the back of the store. No one else would recognize these objects, but she still felt uncomfortable.

A curtain behind the counter parted, and a man stepped out. Cersei had not really seen his face when he had given her the curse, or the times they had met before, but she saw him around town, and she knew who he was. He was a man of average height, with shoulder-length dark hair. He had a scar that ran from his forehead sideways to his chin, and his green eyes searched her face with a coolness. He was dressed in a dark, casual suit.

"Madam Mayor, it's been a long time," he spoke in a soft voice. Cersei walked forward and placed her hands on the counter. "Yes. It has." She paused. "Mr. Steel, something has…happened." The man regarded her with an unsurprised expression. "You already know why I'm here, don't you?" Cersei felt irritated. "I do." Mr. Steel drummed his fingers on the counter. "Your son has found out about magic, hasn't he?" "He _thinks_ he has. I guess I should have seen it coming…what with him being adopted from the outside world and all." Cersei studied the man before her. "I need you to give me a spell to put on him. So he will stop asking questions. So he will be like everyone else." Mr. Steel's lips twitched. "That I cannot do, my dear." "But…why?" Cersei spluttered angrily. She leaned forward. "He can't find out! He can't! Don't you realize it?" "As much as I would like to help," Mr. Steel said, "My magic only works on people from our own world. Nathan, as you said, is from this world. Therefore…" "Therefore," Cersei interrupted, "there's nothing you can do." She paced nervously.

Mr. Steel watched her, seemingly unconcerned. "He asked you questions, yes?" She nodded. "And I told him never to speak of it. I know it was wrong answer, but now I don't know what to do." "Explain to him that magic isn't real," Mr. Steel shrugged. "Mother him, and he will forget about it. And even if he did tell someone else…well," he chuckled, "no one will believe him, right?" Cersei nodded again. "Right…" She straightened, feeling better about the situation. "Thank you Mr. Steel. I trust I can count on you again for advice?" "Of course, my dear. Just remember," he said as she turned to leave, "Magic comes at a price."

A/N: Yay for new characters! I promise more are on the way! Who in the world could Mr. Steel be? I wonder...mwuhahahahha


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Nathan was on pins and needles all morning, waiting anxiously for the bell to ring for recess so that he could see Arya. He was still a little concerned about his conversation with his mother the night before, and he hadn't felt like talking much on the way to school. Cersei said little and left him alone to his thoughts, for which he was grateful.

The bell finally announced temporary freedom, and Nathan darted out into the hallway, heading for the playground. Once outside, he took a deep breathe of the crisp air and looked around. Other students were still filing out, so he decided to sit on the swings and wait for Arya. She spotted him after a couple minutes and walked over to him. "Hey," she said, plopping down on a swing next to him. A couple kids stepped forward towards the swings, but Arya growled at them, "Get lost!" They backed away quickly. "Uh…hey," Nathan answered. "So…did you read it?" The girl fixed her dark eyes on him and nodded. "I did. And….I believe you, Nathan." Nathan's heart pounded. "You do?" "Yes. There's way too much coincidence, and you yourself are evidence of this…spell. Or curse, whatever it is." She kicked off the ground and swung a little. "It's strange….it makes sense now, but at the same time…it doesn't." Arya turned to him, jerking her swing to a stop. "I know what you mean," Nathan said with a sigh. "I still have lots of questions myself." "Well then!" Arya beamed. "It's time to start gathering the evidence! If everyone is under a curse, then they have every right to know, and every right to break it." Nathan grinned at her. He couldn't believe it! She was actually going to help him!

"But where do we start?" he wondered, gazing across the playground. "We have to keep this a secret, first of all, until we have enough proof," Arya whispered. "Definitly. I tried talking to my mom about magic last night, and she flipped. Who knows how other people in the town will react," Nathan agreed. "We should come up with a code name, so no one will figure it out. We can't just talk about magic and spells and curses out in the open." Arya kicked a pinecone in the air. "How about….Operation Cobra?" Nathan suggested. Arya laughed. "What? It sounds military," he grumbled. "I like it. Operation Cobra commences!" Arya winked at him and held out her hand to shake. Nathan took it; her palm was brown and sweaty, but warm. "I don't work until later this evening, so we can meet after school," she said, starting to swing again. "Sounds good."

They swung in silence for a few minutes. Arya suddenly chuckled. "Thanks for marking that chapter in the book, by the way. That tome was some seriously rough reading. I doubt I would have made it there on my own." Nathan gave her a puzzled look. "I didn't mark the chapter." Slowly they both stopped swinging and stared at each-other. "You must have," Arya insisted. "It was just a piece of paper torn off and stuffed in the pages." Wide-eyed, Nathan shook his head. "I never marked it. And there was no paper in it when I checked it out from the library."

Sansa woke up in a good mood. Today was her day off, and she could do anything she wanted to do. Stretching her arms above her head, she made her way to the window of the hotel room and looked outside. The weather promised to be cool, but clear. She smiled as her eyes caught the ring of dark pine trees that circled the town. "I'll go hiking today," she decided, and hurried to get dressed. She threw on a pair of worn jeans, a blue and yellow plaid button-up, and a thick brown coat. She dug her hiking boots out of the closet and laced them on. Lastly, she donned a comfy, grey woolen beanie, curling her naturally wavy hair around her fingers. Then she grabbed a bag filled it with bottled water, mittens, and a map. She would stop by the diner on her way and order a sandwich to bring.

Slowly turning the doorknob of their room, Sansa peeked out into the hall, pleased to see that no one else seemed to be up and moving around just yet. Petyr had a few other clients living in the hotel, but the girls avoided them. And right now Sansa especially wanted to avoid running into Petyr. Not only did he give her the shivers, but their rent was also due. Turning stealth mode on, Sansa crept down the stairs, careful to not step on the creakiest parts of the floorboards. Reaching the last step, she peered around the corner at the front desk, and sighed in relief when she saw that Petyr was not there. She quickly moved through the entryway and out the front door. "Success!" she breathed to the cool air that brushed against her face. She couldn't help but giggle a little as she thought about her effort to sneak past Petyr. There was a sort of sick pleasure that came with avoiding the rent.

Sansa briskly walked down the few streets to the diner and ordered a sandwich. The girl that helped Catelyn on Sansa's days off was a nice girl, but very shy and jumpy. She reminded Sansa of a scared animal most of the time. The girl brought the sandwich in a paper bag and Sansa stuffed it in her back-pack. "Thank you, Jeyne," she said kindly. The waitress nodded but didn't say much in return. Sansa felt a little wistful. It would be nice if she and Jeyne could be friends, but the girl was so tongue-tied!

The woods weren't far from the diner, and Sansa chose a path that was slightly unused. She smiled and gazed at the trees around her. It had been so long since she last went hiking! Sansa loved the forest; it was quiet and peaceful, and a welcome escape from the busy town and especially from the diner. She loved to hear birds chirping and see little foxes in their holes. She loved passing by a particularly bubbling stream. The forest was so…_alive_. And Sansa relished in it. Here, she didn't have to be courteous or polite and take orders. Here she could just be herself.

The path wasn't a difficult one, and Sansa walked deeper and deeper into the woods. She knew wild animals lived on Crimson Island, but they usually kept to the other coast. The only animals one would see were deer and rabbits, so Sansa felt perfectly safe exploring on her own. She would be back before Arya got home from school.

She followed the trail for a long time before stopping to eat lunch by a small brook. Sitting on a fallen log, she nibbled the sandwich and looked around. The sun came through the trees, washing her surroundings in a golden glow. Sansa raised her face to bask it in. The days had been so dreary lately, and she enjoyed the sunlight's warm fingers on her face. A twig snapped to her right, causing her to jerk out of her revere and glance towards the sound. She saw nothing. "Probably just a rabbit," she assured herself. Packing up the food, she pulled out the map and studied it, trying to figure out where she was. Placing her finger on the trail, where it started in town, she followed the line, only to discover that the trail abruptly left off. Her brow furrowed. Why was the trail incomplete on the map? She was standing right on it.

A rustling to her right alerted Sansa again, and this time she slowly backed away, furtively searching for the cause of the noise. "It's just a fox, or a deer," she whispered, not wanting to break the stillness. Suddenly a grey shape darted out from between a group of ferns and jumped towards her. With a startled yelp, Sansa fell backwards, landing on the forest floor. She was so frightened that it took her a moment to realize something was licking her face and nuzzling her arm. She blinked and stared in surprise at the large dog. It had thick grey fur and fierce yellow eyes, but it did not seem interested in eating her at the moment. It licked her face again and she couldn't help but giggle in relief.

"Wolf!" A man's voice penetrated the through the trees. Sansa sat up as the dog bounded away from her a few feet, looking torn between going back to its master or investigating the human girl. Sansa cocked her head as the man called again. Something sounded familiar about it…. "Wolf! Where are you, you damn…" a figure pushed through the ferns, and his sentence died away as he stared at the red haired girl sprawled on the forest floor. The dog barked excitedly, racing from its master back to Sansa, where it began sniffing her pack curiously.

Sansa offered the Hunter a small smile. "Hi…" realizing she was still sitting, she stood up and nervously brushed the pine needles off her backside. The dog sat, its eyes never leaving her. "What are you doing here?" the Hunter asked. He didn't sound upset, but rather surprised. "I-I was hiking," Sansa explained. The map was still clutched in her hand, and she glanced at again. "Do you know why only part of this trail is marked? Why would someone not finish it?" The Hunter regarded her with his dark eyes and took a couple steps towards her. "Because this is _my_ land."

The girl took a deep breath as she walked through the hospital doors. In her hands she clutched a bouquet of flowers and a book. She moved to the front desk, feeling a little self-conscious as her cowboy boots clicked on the spotless tile. The nurse at the desk glanced up and smiled when she saw her. "I'll grab your visitor's tag," she said and delved into a drawer, bringing out a piece of plastic with a clip attached. She entered something in the computer then handed the girl a clip-board. "You know the drill." The girl nodded and signed her name by the designated time, then handed the board back. The nurse handed her the tag and winked. "Good luck." The girl smiled softly and turned to walk down the long corridor, attaching the name tag. A few other nurses recognized her and nodded hello as they went about their duties.

She stopped before Room 42 and pushed the door open, closing it softly behind her. She arranged the flowers in the glass vase that she made sure was kept on the small table next to the bed, then sat down in the visitor's chair. Her purple eyes scanned the patient lying in the bed. He was young and handsome, in a ruggish sort of way. His dark hair fell in slight waves around his face, which was covered by a dark scruff. The nurses usually made sure that his hair was trimmed; otherwise he'd probably look like Rip Van Winkle by now. And, as always, his eyes were closed. There was no sound in the room except for the beep of the monitor. He was still in a coma.

"Hello, Jon," Dany said softly. She had no idea of his real name, but Jon Doe was what they gave to unidentified persons, so she called him Jon. It seemed to fit him somehow, but maybe that was because she had been calling him that for…well, a very long time. Dany visited the coma patient in the hospital a couple of days a week, to talk to him and read to him. Tyrion, the dwarf who ran the library, had told her that sometimes coma patients could actually hear someone talking to them, even if they couldn't respond. Dany had taken up these visits as a sort of project. She felt bad for this boy, who couldn't be much older than she. Here he was, all alone in the world, and stuck in a coma. No one had ever come to claim him, but the hospital kept him on life-support, according the mayor's orders.

"I brought you a great book today, Jon. Its title is _The Call of the Wild_. Tyrion recommended it. I've told you about him before…he works at the library. He's really nice." Only the monitor answered her. With a wishful sigh, Dany opened the book and began to read from the first chapter.

A/N: I'm pretty happy with how this chapter turned out. I will be bringing in more characters now, so the chapters will start to get longer. I'm excited for all the things I have planned. Thank you for reading, and please review! ^_^


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Sansa sat on the rough bench, gazing around the clearing that was part of Sandor's property. The old truck was off to the side, a worn path cause by its wheels leading away into the trees. To her left was the shed and some kind of garage or warehouse; she wondered what could possibly be in there. But since Sandor was a hunter, it probably had a bunch of guns and stuff in it.

She turned to look at Sandor, who was gazing at her, his face a mixture of uncertainty and something else Sansa couldn't put her finger on. She smiled at him. "This is a great place." He grunted and, to her surprise, sat down next to her, stretching his long legs out. Wolf came up the steps, wagging her tail (Sansa learned that Wolf was a she), but instead of going to her master's side she went to Sansa and placed her large head on her lap. The girl ran her fingers through the dog's thick fur. "She likes you," Sandor said, throwing Sansa a puzzled look. "She normally hates everyone we come around." Sansa felt oddly special. "I've always wanted a dog," she said wistfully. "How long have you had her?" "A long time, I guess. She's a good hunting dog." Sandor snapped his fingers and Wolf immediately left Sansa's lap to give attention to her master. "She must be a good companion, too," Sansa said softly. Sandor glanced at her, his dark grey eyes piercing her. She suppressed a shiver. _How does he do that?_ "Aye…that she is." He rubbed one of Wolf's ears.

After their encounter in the woods, Sandor had offered her to come to his place so she could take a shorter path home. Sansa accepted, curious to see how he lived and learn more about them. Ever since he had rescued her, she thought that maybe they could be friends. Sansa didn't really have anyone besides Arya, and while she loved the younger girl like a sister, part of her craved friendship with someone older and a bit more mature. She sometimes hung out with Margaery, who taught at the school, but most of the time they were both too busy to see each other. Come to think of it, Sansa realized that with her work hours, it was a wonder that she didn't have time to make friends. Pretty much everyone in town knew her to an extent, and most seemed to like her, but Sansa never was able to get close to any of them. With Arya in school and only able to work short shifts, Sansa had to put more hours on to make sure they could pay rent and get food in their bellies.

"What's wrong?" Sandor's voice cut through her musings. She looked up at him startled, and realized that she must have had a sad look on her face. She quickly stuffed down her feelings and smiled. "Nothing. I was just thinking." He didn't look like he believed her, but didn't ask again. Instead he turned in his seat so he was facing her more and studied her. Sansa felt a flush creep up her neck, but she remained calm. _If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done so already, _she thought. _He's had plenty of time to take me off somewhere and bury me alive._ She almost chuckled at so ridiculous a thought. "So…hiking…" Sandor was saying, arching an eyebrow. "The diner girl likes to hike, does she?" Sansa straightened her shoulders. "Yes, I do. I don't get the opportunity to very much…but today is my day off, so I decided to go." She shrugged. "I see." His grey eyes kept studying her. "Kind of dangerous to be going off all alone." "I can take care of myself," Sansa said, feeling a bit irritated. He was treating her like a child! "Is that so?" he asked leaning forward slightly. "You got a gun in that back-pack of yours then?" Sansa's eyes widened. "N-no…I've never shot a gun, much less own one." "A knife, then?" She shook her head, starting to feel more foolish. "So technically, out here in the woods, if a wild animal found you, you would be helpless. Helpless as a baby bird." He smirked at her. Sansa glared at him. "Running is always an option." He threw his head back and laughed. It sounded like a bark. "Ever tried to out-run one of the wolves on this island? Or a bear?" he chuckled, running a hand through his dark messy hair.

"Of course not," Sansa answered, then sighed. "I guess you're right…" She stood up. "I guess I'll go now." She started to move away when a strong hand took hold of her wrist and held her back. "I'm only teasing you, Sansa." The Hunter stood up, still clutching her wrist. Sansa tilted her head back to look up at him. They were standing closer than ever had, even when he had rescued her and brought her home. Her blue eyes searched his grey ones, wondering what he was going to do. He was so close, she could smell his scent: a mixture of pine trees and firewood. His flannel shirt was open, with a grey t-shirt underneath. They looked worn, but smelled clean. Even with the layers she could tell that he was very muscular. Sansa wondered if he was really strong enough to carry a bear on his back, like some people in town said.

Her eyes trailed back up to his, where she noticed a glint of amusement in their depths. He slowly let go of her wrist, but didn't move away. "Are you afraid of me, girl?" he asked. Sansa thought about it. Was she afraid of him? She wasn't sure. "I don't know," she answered slowly. "Should I be?" He chuckled. " say I'm a dangerous man." Sansa stared up at him with her big round blue eyes. "You won't hurt me, will you?" Sandor stared back down at her, and blinked. "No, girl, I won't hurt you."

Dany drove down the familiar road towards home. A worn sign loomed up ahead, reading in faded, carved letters "Horse Ranch". The large property on the other side of town held stables and fields for about fifty horses, and Dany was in charge of them all. Many of the kids on town liked to horseback ride, and she had done well to take care of her animals. One of her managers, Jorah Stevens, had helped her greatly with funding for the ranch and encouraging customers to come enjoy horseback rides through marked trails around the island.

She pulled up by the small house she lived in on the property, not too far from the paddocks, and hopped out. She enjoyed her little jeep, but she still preferred riding a horse. Across the yard she could see many of the horses grazing in the fields. Smiling, she headed off towards a small building that they had deemed "The Office". Visiting Jon in the hospital had been just what she needed to get through the rest of the week. Things could get very busy on the ranch, with so many horses to care for, and Dany had little free time. But visiting the strange young man was something she insisted on.

As she entered the office, Jorah looked up from behind the desk and smiled at her. "How was your visit?" "Fine. Same as always." Dany sat down in the plum leather chair they usually had for clients and propped her feet up on the desk like Jorah's. "Poor boy. I wonder if he'll ever wake up?" Jorah shrugged, fiddling with a pen. "Who knows? It's been a very long time. If the mayor hadn't insisted on keeping him on life support, they probably would have pulled the plug ages ago." Dany shook her head. "It's sad that he doesn't have anyone." "He has you…in a way," Jorah added. "I doubt anyone else comes to read to him every week." "I suppose." Dany shook er head again. "Any calls for me?" "No, but we do have a group wanting to ride tomorrow. Some kind of field trip. Teacher thought it would be good for the kids to go riding before the weather gets too cold." Dany nodded. "Good. We haven't booked anything in a while."

She leaned back and regarded the man sitting across from her as he scribbled some notes in the planner. He was tall, big man: not as big as the Hunter, but still very muscular. He was worn and tan, and had little wrinkles around his eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He had to be in his forties or fifties, but Dany had never asked him. He was always very kind to her, and she thought of him not only as a friend, but also as a father figure. Dany had no family, and being far away on the ranch, she didn't have many close friends in town.

Her other manager was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Barristan?" she asked. "He took the truck and went to town to get some feed and some other supplies. On of the saddles needed some repairing I believe," Jorah answered with a shrug. Barristan was even older than Jorah. He had short white hair and kept a neatly trimmed beard. He wasn't a big man, like Jorah, but Dany knew he was not someone to trifle with. She had seen him best a few of the men in town who bothered her to go on dates. If Jorah was her father figure, then Barristan was definitely the grandfather. He was very wise, and Dany had complete trust in his judgement.

She shook her head a little and chuckled. "What's funny?" Jorah asked curiously. "I'm surrounded by horses and men all day. I need some girls in my life." Jorah blinked at her in surprise. "Who would you hang out with?" Dany shrugged, playing with a button on her jean jacket. "I'm not sure…that girl at works at the diner is nice…the red-haired one."

The school day was dragging by at an unbearably slow rate. Nathan had glanced at the clock at least a half dozen times in the last minute. Miss Margaery was droning on and on about the Mayflower, and he just wanted to get out and meet Arya again. He was so excited about having a trusted person in on his discovery, and he was ready to put Operation Cobra into action.

He couldn't help but wonder who had put the slip of paper in the book. Could it have been there already and he just hadn't noticed? Perhaps Tyrion, the librarian, would know. Nathan resolved to ask Arya if they could go to the library on their way to his tree-house.

At last the bell rang, and Nathan gathered up his books and fled out of the classroom and down the hallways to the front doors to meet her. His mother had called the school earlier to let him know that she couldn't pick him up today, and Nathan could barely believe his good luck.

Arya was waiting for him outside. She had her hands cupped around something and she held them out to him. "I caught a lizard. See?" She opened her fingers a little, and a lizard head looked out, flicking its tongue. "Arya, I think we should stop by the library before we go to the tree-house," Nathan said. "Why?" she asked, sticking the lizard in her coat pocket. "Because, I want to ask Tyrion who checked the book out last. Maybe they put the paper in it, and I just never noticed." She shrugged. "Could work, I guess." They left the school yard and walked across town towards the library. "Did Sansa see the book?" "Yea, but I just told her it was something for school. And she's gullible enough to believe me," Arya said cheerfully. "We have nothing to worry about." Nathan nodded. "Would she believe us? About the curse?" "Hmmm…."Arya pulled on her back-pack straps. "It's hard to say, but I'm pretty sure she wouldn't. Sansa likes fairytales, but if she knew what we were doing, she would probably tell us we were being childish."

They crossed another street and approached the library. "It's always dead in there," Arya said as they opened the door. "People should read more." They entered the dim building and Nathan led the way to the front desk. "Tyrion?" he called out quietly. A shuffling was heard down a few aisles, and a fat young man appeared, carrying three huge books. "Hello," he greeted them with a smile. His cheeks were red, like he had been doing something strenuous. "Tyrion is out right now and I'm watching the library for him. Do you need help?" "Oh…uh…yes," Nathan said slowly. "We wanted to know who checked this book out before me." Arya pulled the book out of her bag and handed it to the boy. He placed the other books on the desk, read the title, then took the card out of the front cover and walked to the large filing cabinet. He flipped through some folders. "Hmmm…let's see…according to the card…the last person to check the book out was…Mr. Steel." He said the name in awe, and Nathan and Arya looked at each other in surprise. "Imagine that!" the boy said with a nervous laugh as he closed the filing cabinet. "Mr. Steel, reading about magic. It is fascinating stuff though. Can't really blame him. Always wanted to be a wizard myself." Arya snorted at that, but Nathan smiled and took the book back. "Thank you….what was your name?" "Oh, I'm sorry! My name is Samwell Foster, but you can call me Sam." "It was nice to meet you," Nathan said as he and Arya headed for the door.

Once outside, Arya whirled to look at Nathan. "Did you hear that? Mr. Steel? What the heck would he want with an old book on magic?" "I don't know," Nathan said, at a loss. "Maybe we should go ask him." Arya had a mischievous glint in her eye. "Arya, it could just be a coincidence." "Oh, come on, Nathan. No one just checks out a book of magic for a bit of light reading," she scoffed. "He checked it out for a reason. And, as part of Operation Cobra, we need to find out why." Nathan sighed. "Yea, I guess you're right." "Great! On to the antique shop!"

A/N: I realize that this story has a lot of SanSan in it, but I can't help it! Sorry if no one else really cares for their interactions, but the things that happen with them will be important later on. Also, if anyone wants to draw some fanart of this fic, I would love to see what you come up with!

By the way, if any of you live in around the Tampa, Florida area, there is a comic-con that is being held there in August, and Rory McCann, who plays the Hound, and Maisie Williams, who plays Arya Stark, are going to be special guests there! I'm volunteering there as well, so I hope I get to see and even talk with them!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The antique shop wasn't far from the library. Arya and Nathan pushed the door open. Neither of them had ever been inside before, and they paused a moment to look around. Mr. Steel was nowhere in sight.

"Wow, there's some weird stuff in here," Nathan whispered as he gazed into one of the glass cases. "Check out these swords!" Arya exclaimed, marching over to one of the walls. She had never seen anything quite like them before. They looked like something out of a movie. Most of them were huge, with shiny steel and carefully carved handles. One, all the way over to the left, was much smaller than the others. The handle was light and less bulky, and the blade was much thinner. "I like this one," she said. "I wonder how much it is?" "I don't know," Nathan said. His eyes scanned all the swords curiously and the shelves next them. "Whoa, look at these helmets, Arya!" Helms of all shapes and sizes lined the shelves, each a shiny steel or bronze. Some even looked like they had gold added to them. "Pretty crazy," Arya said, tracing one helm that was shaped like a bull's head. "I can't believe I've never been in here before." "Indeed," said a voice behind them.

The children whirled around to see Mr. Steel leaning against the counter, watching them. "Where the heck did you come from?" Arya demanded. She did not like being snuck up on. Mr. Steel's eyes looked her up and down, and amused expression on his face. "What can I do for you?" "Um…Mr. Steel?" Nathan ventured, since Arya was too busy giving the man the evil eye, "We have something to ask you, but it's top secret." "Yea, you can't tell anyone!" Arya added, stepping forward with what she hoped was a menacing air. Mr. Steel raised his eyebrows a little. "I assure you, whatever you have to ask me will not leave this shop." The children glanced at each other. Nathan gave Arya a nod, and she pulled the book from her pack. "I checked this book out of the library a few days ago. After I gave it to Arya, she found a slip of paper marking a certain chapter. I never put it there when I read the chapter." Mr. Steel glanced at the book. "And why are you asking me this?" "Because you were the last person to check it out before me," Nathan said. "And we wanted to know if you had marked the chapter." "I see." Mr. Steel said casually. He picked up a trinket from the counter and played with it absently. "May I ask why this matters? Why does it matter that I checked it out and possibly marked a certain chapter in this book?" The children glanced at each other again. "Because…"Nathan hesitated. Mr. Steel was an adult, and adults tended to either overact or not take things seriously, in his experience. But something prodded him to continue.

"Because we believe Crimson Island is under a magic spell," he blurted. "A curse," Arya added. "And if you checked that book out too…and maybe even marked the chapter, then…." Nathan trailed off, hoping Mr. Steel would catch on. The man said nothing for a few moments, continuing to play with the trinket in his hands. "So, because you read about some magic in a book, you think it's real?" The question wasn't mocking; he sounded like he really wanted to know the answer. "The things in the book….they make sense with what's happening on this island," Nathan said. "No one ages here. It's like time never passes. And no one notices it. I'm the only who ages and who _has_ noticed….well Arya believes me now." Mr. Steel glanced at Arya, looking interested. "You do?" "Yea," she nodded. "I mean, don't get me wrong…it's still a pretty weird concept to me, and I have a lot of questions, but now that Nathan has brought it to my attention…I just can't ignore it now." "I see," Mr. Steel said again. "This is very interesting, indeed." "So…you know something about this?" Nathan asked. He couldn't understand Mr. Steel's incoherent answers: was he with them or was he going to laugh at them?

"You were right," Mr. Steel spoke suddenly. "I did put the piece of paper in the book after Arya got it a hold of it." The children gasped. "But how?" Arya demanded. "It's been in my back-pack all this time!" "That's for me to know, and for you to wonder," he said, his green eyes gleaming at her. "What are you, a part-time ninja?" Arya scoffed. "Why would you sneak around like that?" Nathan asked. "I couldn't be sure she would find the chapter or believe you, so I decided to help out a bit," Mr. Steel said casually. "Why would you want me to find out?" Arya asked suspiciously. He said nothing, only continued to lean on the counter and watch them mysteriously. "You've known about the curse all along, haven't you?" Nathan said approaching him slowly. "Yes, I have." "Why haven't you told anyone?" Arya was disliking this guy more and more. He seemed fishy. "Magic is a tricky thing, my dear. Just because I know about the curse doesn't mean I should announce it to the entire town." "But you can help us," Nathan said excitedly. Mr. Steel's eyes rested on him for a moment. "I've probably interfered too much already…this is a delicate game…hmmm…" he stroked his chin. "Oh very well, I'll give you a hint to go on. But I would prefer it if you could figure the rest out on your own. It would be…much more enjoyable that way." "How do you know so much about the curse?" Arya asked. "You couldn't have learned it all from this book." "No, you're right, girl. But I cannot tell you that just yet."

Mr. Steel walked behind his counter and leaned forward on the glass. The two children copied him on the other side. "Now, you can't go running around telling just anybody about this curse. Only _certain_ people will believe you. And we are not the only ones on this island that know about the curse. Someone might not be willing to have it discovered and broken." He gave them a small smile. "Are you sure you even want to break this curse? You don't have bad lives here." "Why would breaking the curse change that?" Nathan asked. The man was silent. "If there's been a curse on me and Sansa this whole time, then of course I want to break it!" Arya hissed. "How do we know whom to talk to?" Mr. Steel smiled again. "You're both very intelligent children. Trust your instincts. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"Cersei! What a surprise!" Jaime rose up from behind his desk and hugged her. "I thought maybe we could go get some dinner at the diner," Cersei said with a smile. Today she was wearing a grey wool scarf and a thick black coat. Jaime thought she was beautiful. "Sounds good to me. Let me just finish up some paperwork here and we can go." He sat back down and Cersei took the seat across from him.

As he bent over the desk, Cersei regarded her brother carefully. She had learned from her mistakes with him in the past; she hadn't fully appreciated him. This time around, she was willing to put more effort into their relationship. It was easier since, of course, he had no idea they were related. Cersei had been sure to keep that under wraps, just as she had been sure that the spell would give him his hand back. Crimson Island couldn't have its sheriff running around with a golden hand. It was too unusual.

"How's Nathan?" Jaime asked, cutting her out of her thoughts. "He's alright. I told him to meet us at the diner. I've been actually kind of worried about him." "Really?" Jaime stopped writing and looked up at her. "Yes…he's been hanging around with Arya…that girl who works at the diner." Jaime blinked. "And that's a bad thing?" "She's a trouble maker," Cersei said. "I don't want her encouraging Nathan to do anything he shouldn't." Jaime nodded. The girl had been in trouble a few times in the past: graffiti, pranks, etc., but he thought she was harmless. "I think Arya is just going through a rough time," he said slowly. "She's twelve, and an orphan. Kids like that act out to get attention. Who knows? Maybe Nathan will be good for her. But if it makes you feel better, I'll tell Brienne to keep an eye out for them." Cersei nodded. Arya in Westeros had been close to a wild animal, especially when she had returned after so many years…with those skills…Cersei shuddered. But on Crimson Island, Arya could be handled. Most of her particular skills seemed to have remained hidden, or undiscovered, within her. And for that, Cersei was grateful. She would never forget the look in that girl's eyes when they had met the last time.

"Finished," Jaime said cheerfully, and they walked out of the station. Jaime reached in his pocket for the keys but Cersei grabbed his hand. "Oh, let's walk. It's so nice out, and the diner isn't far." Jaime smiled at her. "Ok." The pair walked down the street. The late afternoon sun was setting over the town, and the air was still crisp and cool, but the wind had died down a bit. Here and there the townspeople scattered the sidewalks, sipping coffee and going about their lives as they did every day. Cersei and Jaime didn't socialize often together in public, but everyone knew they were exclusive. She had stopped receiving date invites long ago, and that was just fine with her.

They entered the diner, which was beginning to fill up in accordance with the dinner hour. Catelyn was busy at the register, but she glanced over and saw them. "Take a seat anywhere!" she called. Cersei wrinkled her nose but followed Jaime to a booth. She slid in next to him, leaving the other side open for Nathan. "Where could he be?" she wondered. "He'll be here," Jaime said, unconcerned. He began flipping through the menu.

"What can I get for you?" drawled a bored sounding voice. Cersei turned and looked into the eyes of Arya Stark. No not Stark here….she shook herself a little, a feeling of PTSD sweeping over her as she stared at the face that had held so much hatred for her once. "A water is fine," she said and leaned back so that Jaime could order. She had to pull herself together. No one could see her off-balance. "Two cokes, please, Arya," Jaime said. The girl nodded as she chewed a piece of gum obnoxiously and walked away. _Ugh, even in this world she's a terror_, Cersei thought.

Nathan suddenly appeared and slid into the empty side of the booth. "Sorry I'm late. Homework." He sounded out of breath. Cersei narrowed her eyes slightly but didn't press the issue. She would find out where he had been later. "How's it going, kid," Jaime asked. Nathan shrugged. "It's fine." Cersei felt like her son was avoiding her look, and it bothered her. Arya returned with the drinks and sat them down. "Ready?" she asked. They ordered, and she left again. "I heard that you two were hanging out today, Nathan," Cersei commented lightly as she squeezed lemon into her water. She wondered if Arya had spat in it. "Oh..yea…she was helping me with my homework," Nathan said, taking a sip of his soda. Cersei nodded slowly, wondering what else she could ask without seeming like she was prying. She nudged Jaime under the table. "What homework was she helping you with?" Jaime asked slowly. "Some math. She's older than me, so she's already learned it." Nathan spoke like it was no big deal, but Cersei suspected something else was afoot. It was too much of a coincidence that Nathan would pick Arya of all the people in his school to tutor him in math.

The girl in question returned with some silverware and refills, acting a bit distracted. "Arya," Jaime ventured, "where's Sansa?" "Well today was her day off," Arya said, snapping her gum. "But she said that she would come back to the diner to eat tonight. I don't know where she could be." Jaime looked concerned. "Do you need to call the hotel?" "Nah. Trust me, on her day off, Sansa would be anywhere but that place." Arya shrugged and turned away.

Jaime frowned. "I hope she's ok, especially after what happened last week." Cersei turned to him. She had little love for the Stark girl, but as mayor she had to at least act a little concerned. "What happened to her?" Jaime glanced at Nathan like he wasn't sure he should say, but Nathan spoke up. "She was walking home from work and some guys came out of a bar and attacked her. The Hunter showed up, beat them up, and took Sansa home. Arya told me." Cersei had to try not to roll her eyes. Sandor's move mirrored how he had saved the girl during the bread riot. It wasn't completely coincidental that it should happen again, and Cersei was wary of those two interacting. _I'll have to keep an eye on them_, she thought.

"The Hunter beat those men pretty badly. Can't really blame him, but still," Jaime was saying. "Well, he's a very violent man," Cersei said as she sipped her water. "I wouldn't trust him around Sansa." "You think he'd hurt her?" Jaime asked. She shrugged. "Like I said, he's violent, has a hot temper, and I believe you've arrested him on some occasions. Who knows what he would do to a sweet innocent girl like Sansa."

Jaime bit his lip. He hadn't even thought of the idea that the Hunter might try to hurt Sansa. He had never even seen them talk to each other. Still, the Hunter had saved her, and if he thought that perhaps now she owed him something…

The sheriff sighed. Things were getting more complicated these days. And he simply did not have enough officers at the station.

"If he hurts her, I'll hunt him down and skin him like a deer," Arya spoke, making them all jump. Jaime stared. He hadn't even seen her slip up to their booth! "Then I'll slash all the tires on that crap truck he drives around." Arya looked as if she was hoping to get the opportunity to unleash this plot very soon. "I'm sure she'll be ok, Arya," Nathan said, trying to calm her down. If there was anything he had learned the past few days, it was that Arya had a quick temper and violent tendencies. She tried to start a fight with everyone. "Hey waitress!" someone yelled across the diner. Arya snarled and stalked off. "Ok…." Jaime leaned back in the booth, unsure of what to make of the girl's outburst. Cersei gave him a knowing look, her eyes bouncing to Nathan. The sheriff shrugged. It wasn't as if Arya could really hurt a big man like the Hunter.

Arya was just giving them their food when the diner door opened and Sansa and the Hunter walked in.

A/N: I was almost done with this chapter when I re-read it and decided to change some things. Hooray for Operation Cobra! Thank you for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The Hunter had offered to bring Sansa home since it was getting dark. "No reason for you to wander blindly around in the woods at night," he'd rasped. "Probably find a cliff a walk right off it." Despite his begrudging attitude, Sansa appreciated the favor. It had surprised her that she had stayed at his place for so long. The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows from the trees. Somewhere an owl had begun hooting, announcing the coming twilight.

Sansa had never spent much time along with a man before. She had been on a couple dates here and there with some of the boys in town, but they all turned out to be jerks who wanted only one thing. So she gave up dating and focused on work. Hanging out with Sandor at his house was something completely unexpected. It wasn't a date, Sansa told herself. It was silly to think so. Who took someone on a date to their house? No, they were simply two…friends? Sansa wasn't sure if they were or not. She really did not know much about him, not to mention the fact that he was older than her. He had to be in his early thirties. But did that really matter? She was eighteen, an adult. They were both adults. And adults should be able to be friends without it being weird, right? Right.

During her internal struggle over whether or not they were friends, Sandor remained quiet, drinking occasionally from a beer and staring off into the trees. They had not said much to each other, and normally that would have made Sansa feel awkward, but somehow, with him, silence was ok. She wondered if he enjoyed her company or wished she would leave, but he didn't say anything about her needing to hit the road, so Sansa stayed, curled up on the porch bench.

He offered her a beer and she looked shocked. "I'm not old enough," she said, suddenly feeling even younger. He smirked at her. "I won't tell anyone," he sneered. "Don't be a goody-two shoes." Sansa narrowed her eyes and grabbed his beer and took a sip. She had never drunk beer before, so the taste that washed through her mouth and down her throat was very unexpected. She coughed and wrinkled her nose. "That's awful," she commented. Then she realized she had actually taken _his_ beer. Drank from _his_ bottle. She set it down quickly, feeling embarrassed at her boldness. It wasn't like her at all. She thought he might be upset, but when she looked up at him, he was smirking at her again, and even chuckled.

As the shadows grew longer, Sandor mentioned driving her home, and Sansa accepted. The cabin of the old pick-up truck smelled like him: pine trees and leather and grease. The drive back to town was quiet again, but it wasn't a bad quiet. Sansa turned to him at one point and asked, "Do you go to the Fall Festival? It's coming up in a few weeks." Sansa loved the festival; it was one of the few times the entire town got together and just had fun. There were games and cookouts and contests, and the smell of autumn was everywhere. Cateyln always closed the diner for the day, so the two girls got to go every year. Sandor shrugged. "Never bothered with them. Too many people." He glanced at her. "What would I do there anyways, girl?" "Well…" Sansa answered slowly, "There's always a shooting contest. I bet you'd win for sure!" She smiled at him. "And there's prize money." That seemed to catch his attention. "Shooting contest, hmm?" He scratched the dark stubble on his chin. "I'll think about it." Sansa smiled broadly at him again and settled back in her seat.

As they entered town, Sansa suddenly remembered that she had told Arya she would come to the diner later, and asked Sandor to drop her off there instead. He obliged, but to her surprise, shut the engine off and got out of the truck. "What are you doing?" she asked, confused, joining him on the other side. "Getting something to eat, of course," he remarked. "You being at my house all day, I didn't make any dinner." Sansa's eyes grew wide. "I'm sorry," she said meekly. 'I didn't mean to intrude…" Sandor grabbed her arm. "Would you stop being so damned polite all the time?" he rasped, his hot breath hitting her face. "It doesn't matter much, I was only stating a fact." He let go of her arm slowly. Sansa bit her lip and searched his scarred face with her eyes. "At..at least let me make it up to you," she said softly. "I could buy you dinner…" The Hunter sighed. "Buy me a drink and we're even, girl," he said finally, his mouth twitching. Feeling relieved that he wasn't really upset, Sansa turned and walked up the stairs to enter the diner, Sandor following behind her.

When they stepped in, the atmosphere of the diner shifted slightly. Everyone always glanced at the door whenever the little bell rang, and to see Sansa, of all people, waltzing in with the Hunter, was not a usual sight. The loud chattering in the diner changed to snickers and whispers. Sansa was only thinking of the conversation she had just had with Sandor ad strode to the bar counter, unaware of the stares. The Hunter followed her, his grey eyes glaring menacingly at anyone who's gaze strayed on them a little too long. He caught the eye of Sheriff Jaime, who was sitting at a booth with the mayor and her son. The Sheriff looked surprised, then his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Sandor snorted and turned back to take a seat next to Sansa. _Screw him_, he thought.

"So!" Arya appeared out of nowhere, startling Sansa so much she almost fell out of her chair. "Where have _you_ been all day?" The younger girl placed her hands on her hips. "I was hiking," Sansa said lightly, trying to act calm as she glanced over a menu, even though she had every item memorized to the T. "Hiking," Arya repeated slowly. Her eyes darted to Sandor, who raised his lip slightly to sneer at her. "The what's _he_ doing here?" She glared back him. "Arya, can't we talk about this later?" Sansa pleaded. She did not want her friend making a scene again like the other night. "Fine," Arya answered, tight-lipped. "But you're going to tell me everything." "Ok, fine, whatever!" Sansa was feeling the heat rise to her face. "Can we have two sweet teas?" "Sure," Arya muttered and stomped off.

"Tea?" The Hunter's voice broke through her thoughts. Sansa grinned at him innocently. "You said I had to buy you a drink. You didn't specify what kind," she said sweetly. Sandor's gaze locked onto hers, and a slow smirk spread over his features, his scars twisting slightly. "Sneaky. Fine, girl. But next time, I expect a real drink."

"How's everything, Sansa?" Sheriff Jaime came to lean on the counter, the check in his hand. He smiled at the girl in front of him, but his eyes darted warily to the hulk of a man next to her. "Fine, thank you," Sansa answered politely, not feeling the tension between the two men on either side of her. "Sandor," Jaime said, nodding his head a little. "Sheriff," Sandor rasped in a low voice. Jaime paid the bill and walked to the door where Cersei and Nathan were waiting. Sansa followed him with her eyes and met Nathan's. The boy gave her a small smile, which she returned before he pushed the door open. Her eyes then met those of Mayor Cersei. The mayor did not smile at her, but rather her cool green eyes regarded her with iciness, before she too turned and followed her son outside. Sansa's brow furrowed. _What was up with that? _She swiveled in her seat back to the counter. "Everyone's acting so weird tonight," she muttered, taking a sip of her tea.

At the other side of town, Tyrion and Sam were locking up the library for the night. Sam was droning on excitedly about a book he had found earlier, and while Tyrion would normally have entered the discussion gladly, he found his thoughts drifting elsewhere. Sam had told him about Nathan and Arya visiting the library earlier that day, asking about the magic book. Tyrion was not sure why he had felt compelled to lie to the mayor about what book her son had checked out, but for some reason, he felt the urge to defy her. There was no friendliness between he and the mayor; in fact, at every election, Tyrion actually voted against her. He knew that she had spies all throughout town, and that she manipulated many people.

Thunder hummed above them, and Tyrion glanced up at the sky, searching for a sign of rain. As he did so, his eye fell on the clock tower, and he almost dropped his keys. "Sam?" he asked. "Yes, Tyrion?" the fat young man answered. Tyrion blinked a couple times. "When did the clock start working?" Sam followed his gaze and saw that the hands of the clock had moved. "I…I don't know…" he stuttered, clearly as surprised as Tyrion. They glanced at each other, confused. The clock had never worked, the entire time they were on Crimson Island. Tyrion had once commissioned someone to fix it, but they had said they could find nothing wrong with it. So it was left to itself, the hands never moving from where they pointed at 3'oclock. Now, the hands had moved to the big black Roman numeral VI.

"How could it be working?" Sam asked, in a whisper. "No one has been in to fix it." Tyrion's eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure," he answered slowly.

Jaime drove Cersei and Nathan back to the station, since the mayor's car was parked there. "Goodnight, Jaime. Thank you." Cersei hugged him, while Nathan looked around, trying to focus on something else. "No problem," Jaime said and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "'Night, Nathan." "Goodnight, Jaime," Nathan answered distractedly. He just wanted to get home so he could plan some more for Operation Cobra.

After Jaime went back into the station, he and Cersei walked over to where her sleek Mercedes was parked. Cersei dug out her keys and unlocked the car, and as she did so her eyes roved over the town and she froze. Her eyes widened and she stared down the street, the blood seeming to drain from her face. Nathan saw her and, puzzled, he followed her gaze. Over the rooftops of a few buildings, he could see the clock tower that adorned the library. Surprise and disbelief washed over and through him, but instead of looking terrified like Cersei, he let a smile creep over his face.

A/N: Not a long chapter, but I hope you liked it! Also, feel free to follow me on Tumblr if you want! My username is charisamae


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: So...this is the longest chapter I have ever written...holy cow. Grab the popcorn and a comfy blanket, and happy reading!

Chapter 15

Cersei waited until she was sure Nathan was fast asleep, then she quietly slipped out of the house and drove to Mr. Steel's. Her heart was still thudding hard, and her hands gripped the steering wheel anxiously. She couldn't believe it! Mr. Steel had some explaining to do. There was no reason why the clock….she shook her head, trying to relax.

She pulled up to the antique shop. The streets were practically empty, and she did not worry about someone seeing her paying a visit to someone this late at night. She pulled her coat tighter around her and rapped on the shop door. No answer, so she rapped again. "Steel," she hissed. "Open up. I know you're in there." The sound of the door being unlocked answered her, and Mr. Steel opened up the door. "Madam Mayor. How can I help you at this hour?" "Cut the pleasantries, Steel. You know why I'm here." She brushed past him into the dimly lit shop. The man shut the door behind her and turned to face her calmly. "Are perhaps referring to the now-working clock at the library? Quite extraordinary, don't you think?" His eyes gleamed at her. Cersei grimaced at him. "How has this happened?" she almost screamed. "That clock is a symbol of the spell. You said when we first got here that it would never move, which meant time here would never move!" She thrust her hand towards the window, pointing in the direction of the clock tower. "How is it that it is now working?"

Mr. Steel sighed. "Once again, you prove how little you know about magic, my dear." He shoved his hands in his pockets. " I've told you magic comes at a price. The spell I gave you is a good one; however, even it has certain…weaknesses. Every spell, every curse, can be broken, no matter how strong it is." Cersei's face paled again, and her nails dug into her palms as she fought the urge to slap him. "What are you saying?" she asked. "I'm saying that the spell has weakened some. It has lost a little of it's power, it's grip on the island and its people. Thus, the clock has sprung to life, and time won't be as wrapped up as it used to be."

Cersei took a step forward. "How is this possible?" she asked, her voice trembling. "_You_ gave me the spell. Why did you not tell me this?" She paused. "Why give me the spell at all?" Mr. Steel grinned. "I was...curious, I suppose. I wanted to see what would happen if someone like you got their hands on such a weapon. I wanted to see what you would use it for." He tapped his fingers on a case. "Did you not think that I would give something like that to you only if I was certain it could be broken?" Cersei stared at him, her jaw dropping open. "You…you knew this would happen…" she trailed off, glaring at the man in front of her. She took another step forward. "What do you want?" She opened her arms wide. "I made sure that you were rewarded in this world. I gave you more money than you know what to do with. You are an influential person here. What is it that you want?" She was so close to him now she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes. "Help me stop the curse from being broken, and you can have anything you want."

Mr. Steel gazed at her for a few moments, then chuckled. "It's interesting…you're not the first person to come here begging for my help regarding the curse." Her eyes grew wide. "Oh yes…I had a very interesting conversation with your son, Nathan. Such a nice boy. Intelligent too." Cersei blinked at him. "Nathan? What does he have to do with the curse?" "I'm afraid I can't tell you that, Madam Mayor." Cersie clenched her fists. "He knows, doesn't he?" "Indeed he does. Did you think it would take longer for the boy to see that he is different from the rest of us? And now that he knows there is a spell, and that he is unaffected…well, anything can happen," he said with a smile. "And I'm just here to watch the show."

Nathan sat in his room, trying to do homework, but his mind kept going back to what Mr. Steel had said about the curse. If he and Arya couldn't tell any random person, how would they know who they _could_ tell? Nathan decided that when the time came, they would just know, like how he had known to tell Arya.

There was a soft knock on his door. "Come in!" he called, shuffling his papers around on his desk. His mother came in and sat on the bed. "Nathan," she said. "I want to talk to you for a minute." Puzzled, Nathan turned in his desk chair and faced his mother. She looked tired, and a little uncertain. "I talked to Mr. Steel yesterday, and he said you came to his shop, asking some very bizarre questions about magic." She sighed. "I thought I told you to forget about it, Nathan." "Why?" Nathan asked. "Why should I forget about it?" When she didn't answer, he leaned forward. "You know it's real. The curse. You know about it, don't you?" Cersei's green eyes bore into his brown ones, and the boy felt a sudden chill as a shadow passed through them. "Don't push this, Nathan. You are getting involved in things you have no business with," Cersei warned tightly. Her hands gripped the bed. Nathan stood up. "Mom, if this island and these people are under a curse…don't you think they deserve the right to _know_?" He swallowed, trying to build more courage. "It needs to be broken. They need to know the truth!" "Why?" Cersei challenged him. "Maybe the curse is put in place with good purpose, Nathan. Maybe it's better this way." Nathan regarded her, cold sweeping through him. "Mom…it's called a curse for a reason. There's nothing _good_ about it."

Cersei studied the boy in front of her, feelings of anger and betrayal hitting her. Her own son was against her. She stood up, towering over him. "You're going to drop this matter, Nathan," she said in a soft, deadly voice. "For your sake, drop it." She turned and started to leave the room, then paused, her hand on the doorknob. "Oh, and I don't want you hanging around with Arya anymore, Nathan."

Nathan fumed. How could she! "And what if I don't?" he asked. His mother's icy eyes fixed on him again, and she said quietly, "Then something might happen to her." She walked out and closed the door. Nathan fell back into his chair.

A couple of weeks drifted by. Arya and Sansa had been busy with the diner. Autumn meant bringing back many of the town's beloved dishes, and the kitchen was constantly filled with baking pies and the scent of hot cider. Arya had not seen much of Nathan since they both had school and she had work afterwards. The last time she'd spoken with him, he told her to meet up with him at the Fall Festival. He had something big to tell her, he said, about Operation Cobra. Arya was dying to find out, but there wasn't much she could do until the day of the festival. In the mean time she had been racking her head, trying to think of who else in the town they could trust to tell their secret to. Adults were a last option, for sure. They tended to ruin everything with practicality.

Sansa was always looking forward to the festival, but for different reasons. She had not seen Sandor since the night at the diner, and she had begun to wonder if he was avoiding her. She couldn't think of a reason why, so she tried to push that out of her head. Maybe he was on a long hunting trip, or practicing for the shooting contest. She hoped for the latter. Sansa wasn't sure why she felt drawn to the Hunter; they were completely opposite in almost every way, yet she felt…protected, and even comfortable, in his presence. It gave her a strange, fluttering feeling in her stomach. Despite how busy they were at the diner, and the fact that she had not had a day off again, she couldn't shake the eagerness to see him again.

The day of the festival arrived. Sansa stood in front the closet and dresser she shared with Arya, biting her lip and trying to decide between several different outfits to wear. "Come on, Sansa! You're taking forever!" Arya sprawled out on their bed, groaning dramatically. She wore a pair of jeans, a hoodie, and a dark green cargo jacket on top. "Just pick a sweater or something and let's go! We're going to miss the opening contests." Arya really just wanted to hurry up and meet Nathan, but she couldn't tell Sansa that.

"Hold your horses," Sansa muttered, digging through a pile of shirts on the floor. "Don't get your panties in a wad." Arya stuck her tongue out. "Who are you dressing to impress anyways?" She sat up suddenly on the bed when Sansa froze. "You're not taking all this time to pick out an outfit because the Hunter might maybe come, are you?" Arya scowled at her. Sansa blinked at her innocently. "Ugh!" Arya threw her hands in the air and rolled off the bed. "That's it, I'm leaving." "No, wait! Please, Arya? I need your opinion," Sansa begged, holding several pairs of clothes and looking miserable. "Sansa, you'd look good in a potato sack. And if the Hunter can't see that, then he's dumber than I thought he was," Arya said, folding her arms. "Sandor is not dumb," Sansa pouted. Arya's eyes widened. "Ohhhh, it's _Sandor_ now, is it?" She clasped her hands in front of her and batted her eyes. "Oh Sandor, whisk me away in that rusty truck of yours!" She put a hand on her forehead, pretending to swoon. "Shut up, Arya," Sansa said, but she couldn't help but smile.

Turning back to the mess of a closet, Sansa finally selected a pair of dark wash jeans, a cream cable-knit sweater, a scarf, and a thick navy pea-coat. The day promised to be chilly, and she did not want to get sick. She twirled her long hair around her fingers, letting them curl naturally. "Ok, I'm ready." "Congratulations," Arya said sarcastically. "I'm one hundred years old." Sansa swatted at her and they left their room, being sure to lock the door behind them and making for the stairs. "We need to give Petyr the rent before we leave," Sansa reminded the younger girl, taking an envelope from her pocket.

They rounded the corner at the foot of the stairs to see Petyr sitting behind the front the desk. He looked up and smiled broadly at them. "Good morning, ladies. On your way to the festival?" His tone was friendly enough, but Sansa always felt like a bug under a microscope when he looked her way. "Yes," she answered and held out the envelope. "This months' rent." "Ah…yes. Thank you, my dear." He took the money from her, and Sansa barely controlled the shiver that passed down her spine when his hand brushed hers. She pulled back quickly and made for the door, Arya on her heels.

The festival was held near the center of town, by the school. Many were heading in that direction, bundled up in sweaters and coats, laughing and talking in anticipation of the day's activities. Banners decorated the streetlights, and the trees had shed a thick layer of bright orange and yellow leaves. Sansa lifted her face and smelled the fresh clean air. _Perfect_, she thought happily. They began to see more and more people, and soon it was obvious they had arrived at the festival. Stands of all kinds had been set up, selling pumpkins, food, drinks, and crafts, while others had various games set up. The crowd churned around the festival grounds, seeking hot cups of cider and amusements.

Arya strained her neck, trying to spot Nathan through the ocean of people. He hadn't said where he would meet her, and at the moment Arya wasn't sure how long it would take her to find him. "Hey, Sansa," she said absently, "If I disappear at some point, don't worry about me, ok?" The older girl looked sharply at her. "Why? Are you planning some sort of trouble?" "No," Arya scoffed. She walked around a group of children. "I'm just giving you a fair warning, so you don't think I got kidnapped or something stupid." Sansa snorted. "Heaven help any kidnappers who grab _you_," she said. Arya rolled her eyes but smiled. "True." Frustrated that she didn't see Nathan anywhere, Arya decided to enjoy the sights with Sansa for a while, and the two girls strolled along, peering into the different stands and watching people participating games. Most of the contests were being held later.

Across the grounds, Cersei was doing her duty as mayor by greeting certain townspeople and making rounds of the stands. Part of her hated this, yet another part of her enjoyed the attention lavished on her as the most important figure in town. _It's how it should be_. She was even to give some sort of speech later.

Nathan walked by her side looking bored. His mother had found all sorts of excuses to keep him extra busy these past weeks, and he hadn't had the time to make any progress with Operation Cobra. He hope he would have a chance to meet with Arya, but with Cersei keeping him glued to her side, it didn't appear like he'd have much of a shot at that. He sighed, glancing wistfully at some of his classmates that ran by.

Cersei looked down at her son and took note of his miserable face. He had been good so far; she hadn't received any reports of him meeting with Arya anymore, and he never mentioned magic again. She leaned down and swept some of the hair out of his eyes. "Why don't you go have some fun?" she said with a smile. Nathan stared at her in surprise, then uncertainly. "Really?" he asked slowly. She nodded. "Sure. Here." She dug in her pocket and pulled out some cash. "Make it last." Nathan gave her a grin finally. "Thanks, Mom." He turned and soon disappeared into the thick net of people.

Nathan couldn't believe it! Feeling free from his mother's hawk-like watch for the first time in weeks, he began a mission to find Arya. Several times he thought he saw her, but it turned out to be another girl. He found himself near the horse pen. The stables always gave a few of their horses up for rides around a large gated pen, and it was a favorite attraction for the younger children. He paused, watching the silvery-blonde girl who owned the stables smile at a family and wave them goodbye. She turned and saw him, and her dark, purplish eyes sparkled as she walked towards him. "Hello, Nathan," she greeted him in a friendly tone. "Hi, Dany," the boy answered. "You should come visit the ranch sometime. My horses miss you and the treats you bring them." Dany shoved her hands in her coat pocket and leaned against the railing, tucking one booted foot behind the other. "I will," Nathan promised. "I've been really busy with stuff." He glanced around. "Have you seen Arya anywhere?" Dany furrowed her brow. "No, I haven't. Not yet. But I'll keep a lookout." She winked conspiratorially at him. "Thanks."

"Nathan!" Jorah had marched over and gave the boy a high-five. "Where have you been?" "Mom's been keeping me busy," Nathan explained. He missed the stables. He hadn't been riding since their fieldtrip a few weeks ago. "Ahhh," Jorah nodded sympathetically. "Sounds like I'll need to convince her to let you start up riding lessons again." "Please do," Nathan said with a grin. "I'm sick of being cooped up at school or home." Dany and Jorah laughed, and Nathan couldn't help but join them. He always felt comfortable around them, and he had even vented some of his frustration at being so closely watched by Cersei all the time. "Don't worry, Nathan. We have your back," Dany said. "But it looks like a line is forming, so we will see you later, right?" "Right." Nathan waved at them and took off again on the search for Arya.

He was about to give up when a hand clutched at his jacket and pulled him around a stand that was closed. "Found ya," Arya whispered. "Sorry, would have been here earlier before it got so busy, but Sansa took a thousand years to get dressed." "It's ok," Nathan nodded. "The more people, the harder it is for anyone to spot us." "You're right." Arya sat down on a turned over bucket. "So, what did you have to tell me about Operation Cobra?"

Sansa wandered the festival, feeling a little hurt at being abandoned. She had been watching a game and turned to say something to Arya, only to discover that the girl had completely disappeared. With a sigh, she moved around to people-watch. Even though Arya had warned it could happen, Sansa still felt a pang that Arya was off participating in something she wasn't included in.

Quite a few people who were regulars at the diner said hello and even spoke to her for a couple minutes here and there, but there was no one Sansa felt particularly inclined to hang out with. Margaery was helping with the face-painting booth, so she couldn't go hang out with her. With a sigh, the red-head made her way towards some of the contest arenas. The first one she came across was a bull-riding contest. The bull, of course, was a mechanical one, and a large group of men were guffawing at a young man who was thrashing around its back. Sansa moved away and headed for the next contest over, which happened to be the shooting area.

A crowd had already gathered, anxious for the competition to start. A sign read "Shooting Contest: Rifles only. Bring your own gun". Sansa wriggled through the maze of people to the front, earning a good spot against the railing. She craned her neck, watching as some men set up the targets. To the middle of the sidelines across from her was a crude stage, where a fat man in a cowboy hat was bellowing into the microphone. "Step right up boys! Let's see your skills at shooting! There's a big prize this year, yessssirrr." A small group of competitors stood next to the stage, all men ranging from young to old, carrying their guns and joking with each other. Sansa could hear some of the people around her making bets on who would win.

"The competition will be starting early, folks! Ten minutes left to enter and show off your marksmen skills!" The man went on to describe the two kinds of shooting that would be displayed: long-distance and "quick-style" as he called it, in which the competitor would have to shoot all the targets as close to the center as possible, as quickly as possible. Sansa searched the crowd in alarm. Sandor was nowhere to be seen, and she felt her heart sink. _Maybe he decided not to come after all_, she thought. "First prize this year," the man bawled into the speaker, "Is $500! That's right, ladies and gentleman, $500!" The crowd gave a collective gasp. The prize for the shooting competition had never been so high before. A few more men stepped forward eagerly, welcomed by the others with pats on the back. "Last chance, men! One minute 'till get this show gets going!" The fat man turned to say something Sheriff Jaime, who had joined him on the stage to make sure nothing went awry during the contest.

Sansa had begun to lose hope and was turning to leave when she heard some whisper loudly, "Look! The Hunter!" She whipped her head around in the other direction. Sure enough, the Hunter's tall figure appeared, striding towards the stage. He wore his worn brown coat with a white t-shirt underneath, and he held his gun slung over his shoulder. His dark hair was parted, like always, to try to cover the burned side of his face, and he rolled a toothpick carelessly around in his mouth. The crowd broke out in an excited frenzy as he approached the stage, giving his name as a competitor. "Well, we all know who's going to win now," someone muttered near Sansa. She smiled. _I couldn't agree more_, she thought, leaning eagerly on the railing.

The contest began a few minutes later, and one by one each of the men stepped up to take their shots. The long-distance had ten shots, each farther and farther away. The crowd formed a horseshoe around the arena, hooting and hollering to their favorites. Most of the men very good, but Sansa knew none of them were competition for the Hunter. She glanced over the remaining contestants, and was startled to see that one of them, a young man, was staring at her. He had dirty blond-hair, and wasn't altogether bad-looking, but Sansa didn't like the way his eyes roved over her. He shot her a grin, and Sansa swallowed and turned away, pretending to focus on the shooting.

The young man stepped up, and took his aim. One by one, he shot all the targets, hitting closer to the mark than any of the other men. The crowd murmured and applauded as the young man gave what he must have thought was a roguish smile, and his eyes fell on Sansa again, and he gave her a slow wink. She felt her face grow red a several people looked in her direction to see who he had been flirting with. The young men turned and walked off to the side.

The Hunter stepped up finally, being the last to enter, and a slight hush fell over the audience. Sansa smiled, anxious for him to show up that young man who thought he was such a great shot. Sandor had looked unimpressed with the shooting so far, and as he took his place, his face never dropped its flat, almost bored, expression. When he was given the signal to go, he lifted his gun, and a dark look came into his eyes as he aimed. He shot through the first target, clean through the middle, much to the delight of the on-lookers. He shot the next one and the next one, the same way, till all ten had been shot. Then he lowered the gun.

The crowd, stunned for a minute, gave way to rapturous shouting. Sansa clapped, smirking at the young man who now looked dumb-founded, the cocky look wiped off his face. Sandor shouldered the gun and stepped away, spitting at the ground and continuing to chew on his toothpick. "Well done, men!" the fat man cried, taking control of the microphone once more. "The points are being gathered and tallied. Meanwhile, we'll have a quick break as we set up for the next contest." The people around Sansa began swirl around and push, some heading off to place bets with friends, others to buy something to eat or drink. Sansa clung to her spot, refusing to get swept away. She looked up and realized with a jolt that the young men was trying to make his way over to her. Over the heads of the people milling about, crossing the sides, she spotted the Hunter's shoulders looming above the others, and he planted himself in front of her and leaned an elbow on the railing, leaning towards Sansa with a grin.

"You came," she said happily, beaming at him. "Heard about the prize money," he rasped, moving the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. "I'm disappointed by the lack of competition this holds for me, though." "Well, I said you'd win for sure, didn't I?" Sansa answered, smiling. He smirked at her, and she felt a hot little tingle spread through her. "That you did." He leaned a little closer. "By the way, who's that pretty boy who's been making eyes at you the whole time?" "Oh, him? I think his name is Harold something. I don't really know," Sansa said with a shrug. "I think he was hoping to impress me. Too bad for him, you turned up." The Hunter gave a quick laugh that sounded like a bark. His grey eyes darkened slightly as they roved over her face, and Sansa felt herself blush again. The Hunter seemed to like that, because his smirk grew wider. "Alright men, back to your spots! The next shooting competition is about to begin!" People hurried back to the sidelines. Sandor glanced over his shoulder, then back at Sansa. "I'll find you after I win, girl." He gave her a wink, which she enjoyed infinitely more than Harold's and strode off, leaving her slightly light-headed.

Arya stared at Nathan in shock, her mouth hanging open. "She…she actually said that?" Nathan nodded miserably. "That's why I haven't tried to meet up with you more. I'm worried about what she might do." He kicked at a rock with his sneaker, feeling more hopeless than he had since before he'd discovered the spell. Arya clenched her mouth shut, mulling over what Nathan had told her. "Well," she said slowly, "Now that we've established the fact that your mother is pure evil, we need to get more people in on Operation Cobra. There's strength in numbers." "I just can't believe she's known about the curse the whole time," Nathan said, gazing at the crowd of people enjoying the festival. "She's ok with everyone not having control over their lives because they're stuck in magic." "It's like how Mr. Steel warned us," Arya told him, leaning forward. "He said we weren't the only ones who knew about the curse." She rested her chin on her hand. "But why would the mayor want the curse to remain?" "Probably so she can keep being the mayor," Nathan exhaled, frustrated. "I've known for a while that she manipulates people in this town, and that she has spies. But now it's clear why she's always in control: she's been using the curse to achieve her own needs." Nathan felt sick. He did not like referring to his mother as an enemy, or a bad person, but what was he going to do?

"Hey." Arya placed her hand on his shoulder. "It's gonna be ok, Nathan. Once we figure out how to break the curse, you can come live with me and Sansa. Maybe we can get a house out in the woods, like the Hunter, so we don't have to stay at Petyr's hotel. It'll be great." She gave him an encouraging smile, but Nathan wasn't so sure. "Breaking the curse could change a lot of things, " he said. "Crimson Island could be completely different." "As long as we stick together, we'll be fine," Arya announced positively. She stood up and took a quick peek around the corner of the empty booth. "Now, let's go scout out possible recruits for Operation Cobra! And don't worry about your mom. I doubt she could do anything to me." Nathan finally smiled at her, and the two children slipped back out into the crowd.

"How did you know to tell me about the curse?" Arya asked him as they walked along. "I didn't…it was just…a feeling I had," Nathan confessed. "I looked at you and felt like I could trust you. It seemed right to tell you." "Hmmm…ok. Then we gotta find someone we both get that feeling about." Arya scanned around. They had ended up on the other side of the festival. A large booth had been set up, and the smell of salt and fish wafted in the air. "Looks like Mr. Davos is having the oyster booth set up again," Nathan said, standing on his toes to get a better view. Mr. Davos owned a large fishing company on Crimson Island port, including many of the boats on the island. Every year he and his men hauled dozens of oysters to the festival. People paid to see if there was a pearl inside. Standing on a small stage at the front of the booth was Mr. Davos, an older man, with a graying beard and eyes like the sea. He was missing the fingers on one of his hands; some said it was a boating accident, others said a shark bit them off. Davos was a friendly man, and the children loved to come hear him tell fishing stories. Sitting on a stool nearby was his adopted son, Rickon.

A/N: Ahhh cliffhangers. There were other times I could have stopped this chapter but I decided to end it here. Hope you enjoyed it!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Sansa clutched to the railing, feeling slightly claustrophobic. Even more people had come to see the shooting contest since word had spread that the Hunter was not only competing, but that he had dominated the first round. Bodies pressed tight around her, everyone wanting a view, and Sansa felt the beginnings of anxiety spreading through. She never liked huge crowds, and this was almost unbearable. To keep her mind off it, she tried focusing on the shooting, but mostly she paid attention to Sandor. She watched his face as each man stepped up; outwardly his face showed barely any emotion, but she could see his eyes studying the targets and how each man shot. Sansa wondered why any of them even continued to try; there was no way they could beat him. She allowed a smile to creep over her face as she remembered that he was going to come find her when it was over.

Glancing in his direction, she noticed that Harold was staring at her again, but instead of smiling he seemed to be frowning slightly. His eyes looked at the Hunter, then at her again, a mixture of annoyance and frustration on his features. Sansa felt smug. He was clearly thrown off by Sandor's attentions to her, and hers in return. She could tell it wasn't something Harold had anticipated, which was probably one of the reasons he had stopped coming over to her during the break. He gave the Hunter another disgusted glance, looking him up and down. Sandor seemed to feel the boy's stare, because he turned to him and, seeing Harold's face, sneered. They glared at each other for a few moments when Harold leaned forward and said something. The Hunter didn't seem impressed with the younger man's remark and retorted back. Sansa wasn't sure, but it looked like Sandor growled at him.

The fat man announced that it was Harold's turn, and the young man stepped up, clenching the gun tightly. He closed his eyes a moment, seeming to try to relax himself, then nodded that he was ready. The targets came flying up in quick succession, and Harold shot each of them except for the last one. He seemed frustrated, then grinned. No one had shot all of the targets, and Sansa had heard that it was nearly impossible to do so. Harold had the best score so far, again, and he looked certain that Sandor would not be able to beat him. He walked back to the side, throwing Sandor a triumph smirk.

It was the Hunter's turn, and Sansa felt the crowd move and speak excitedly, eager to see how he would score compared to Harold. Sandor took his place without ceremony and positioned his gun, nodding. The targets flew up, and he shot the first one, the second, then third…the crowd roared as he continued to shoot each one, with a speed and ferocity unmatched by the other competitors. Satisfied, he lowered the smoking gun and rested it back on his shoulder. The fat announcer was bellowing dramatic congratulations from the speaker, and behind him, Sheriff Jaime clapped slowly, his face a mask. "Well, I think it's clear from our judges who won today's shooting competition! Come up here, Hunter!" The Hunter reluctantly strode up onto the stage at the fat man's beckoning.

"Well done, Hunter!" the man exclaimed reaching to grip Sandor's hand. Sandor looked he'd rather not but accepted the shake, pulling away quickly. "You've certainly shown true skill here today, true skill!" The fat man looked so overjoyed to be standing on stage with the winner Sansa wondered if he was going to have a spike in blood pressure. She peered at Sandor's face and couldn't help giggling. He looked so uncomfortable and annoyed, glaring daggers at the announcer and everyone else. "Amazing sportsman, really! Superb! Flawless! Like a true predator! We- "Can you just give me the damn money and let me go?" the Hunter growled. Some of the crowd tittered at this, others looked nervously at each other, eyeing his gun with some trepidation. "Oh, uh…of course! Here you are!" The fat man produced an envelope and handed it the Hunter, who pried it open and glanced at the contents. Then he gave a sharp nod and walked off the stage before the announcer could say anything else.

That's when everything turned to mayhem. The crowd jostled and sifted between the railings, crossing the field and mingling together, some heading off towards other attractions, others searching to talk to the competitors. Sansa had enough of being squeezed against the wooden rail, and she bent down and slipped under it. She was now in the field were the shooting had taken place, and she tried to avoid being pushed around as she stood on her tip-toes, trying to find Sandor. As tall as he was, she couldn't understand why she didn't see him anywhere, towering over the crowd. _Had he left?_ She wondered. Someone laid a hand on her arm, and for a second she thought it was him, but when she turned she saw it was instead Harold. "Hello," he said. "You're Sansa, right?" "Oh…yes. Hello," Sansa answered, feeling a little flustered. Why was he talking to her? "I noticed you across the way. You're very pretty," he was saying, his hand still on her arm. Sansa wanted to shake it off. "I came to ask if you wanted to hang out for the rest of the festival." He flashed a confident grin at her. "No thank you," Sansa replied as politely as she could, feeling annoyed as she did at the moment. She turned her head away, making it clear that she was looking for someone.

Instead of taking the hint and leaving, Harold tightened his grip on her arm so she had to face him again. "Oh come on," he insisted. "I got some prize money for second place. I'll take you out later after the band plays." "I said no thank you," Sansa said, her eyes narrowing. "I'm waiting for someone." "No one should make a girl like you wait," Harold said. He pulled on her arm, trying to get her to come with him. "Forget whoever you're waiting for. You'll have more fun with me." Sansa had had enough. The audacity if this….boy! She ripped her arm away and glared at him, her blue eyes flashing dangerously. Arya wasn't the only one with a temper. "I said no!" she lashed out. "I don't want to go anywhere with you! And if you ever touch me again, I'll tell the Hunter, and he'll gut you and hang you in the trees, like wild game." Leaving Harold staring at her with shock plastered on his face, Sansa turned and ran through the crowd.

She pushed through countless bodies of people, her fury giving her extra strength. Harold's pushy-ness had reminded her of the night she had almost been raped, and she just wanted to get away. Fight or flight response had taken over, and Sansa could feel her heart pounding in her ears. Suddenly she collided into something hard and unmoving, and hands reached up to grip her shoulders. Sansa almost started to pull away when she realized who it was. "Where are you flying off to in such a hurry, little bird?" She raised her head to see the Hunter gazing down at her, a smirk on his face, twisting the scars. Relief flooded her, but he must have seen the frantic look on her face and he frowned. "What's wrong?" Sansa flinched as a group of people pushed past them. "Can we get away from here?" she asked. Sandor nodded and placed his hand on her back as he began leading her through the maze of people, who made way for his massive form. She briefly wondered where his gun was, but decided it didn't matter.

They finally found an area of the festival that wasn't so busy, and Sansa dropped gratefully onto a pile of hay bales. "Thank you," she said. Sandor let go of her arm but leaned up against the bales next to her, his elbow brushing hers. "What were you running from?" he asked. Sansa shook her head. "That one guy…Harold…he was trying to get me to come hang out with him, even when I said no…he grabbed me by the arm and wouldn't let go." She folded her arms, like she was trying to keep herself warm. "That little bitch," Sandor swore under his breath. "What did you do?" Sansa blushed, remembering her words. "I…I told him that if he ever touched me again, I would tell you, and that you would gut him and hang him from the trees." She bit her lip, hoping the big man at her side wouldn't be upset for using him as a threat.

She jumped as Sandor threw his head back and laughed. It was harsh sound, like stone scraping on metal, and Sansa felt the corners of her mouth go up at his mirth. "Smart girl," he chuckled, taking a lock of her hair and twisting it gently around his finger. Sansa blushed a deeper shade of red and twisted her fingers together, but she couldn't help but smile. _Is he flirting with me?! _Her heart pounded again, but not from running.

"So what's there to do here, now that the shooting is over?" Sandor asked casually. Sansa's head shot up, realizing that she had yet to congratulate him. "Oh!" She beamed at him. "You did so well! I knew you would win!" Sandor snorted. "Of course I would." His grey eyes darkened and he smirked at her mischievously. "You know…I did just win a butt-load of money. Let's go spend some." He winked at her again as he left the hay bale to stand in front of her. "And this time I'll get _you_ a drink."

Cersei had only seen the first part of the shooting competition, but she hadn't missed the short exchange between Sansa and the Hunter. Her brow furrowed. She had forgotten about those two in all the commotion about the curse weakening. She would have to speak to Sansa, and soon. Those two together…she shook her head. It was like a nightmare revisited.

She walked along, nodding to different people, searching for someone. He smiled, suddenly spotting him standing in some shadows near one of the booths that was flush against the school building. "Ramsey." "Madam Mayor." The young man grinned at her, a lock of dark hair falling in his face. "How can I help you?" "I may need your assistance with making a certain person stay silent." Cersei stood close to him. "Can I count on you and your friends for that?" Ramsey grinned wider, and Cersei suppressed a shiver as she thought of everything this man had done in Westeros. "Of course. I will be waiting to hear from you." She nodded and moved along, back into the sunshine, leaving Ramsey to the shadows where he belonged.

Nathan and Arya lingered by Davos' booth, trying to figure out what to do next. They were careful of mentioning the word 'magic' or 'curse'; Nathan was sure his mother's spies were everywhere, and he did not want any of them to overhear. As the two children leaned against some barrels that had been placed as part of the display, he spotted two people out of the crowd. "Arya, look, Sansa….why is she with the Hunter?" Arya looked and gave a snort. "I don't know. She's got a crush on him or something, I guess." They watched the pair file through the crowd and disappear. "Arya, are you sure we shouldn't tell Sansa about Operation Cobra?" Nathan asked quietly. He liked the older red-haired girl. She was always really nice to him when he came to the diner. And when their eyes had met that night a few weeks ago, he felt a bit of a pull to her.

"It's risky," Arya said, popping a piece of gum in her mouth. "It's hard to tell how Sansa will react to some things. You think she's all proper and good and perfect and whatnot, then bam! She's going off into the woods by herself and hanging out with the Hunter all day." She rolled her eyes. "If you want to tell her, you can, but we have to make her take an oath or something first." "Tell her what?" came a small voice behind them.

They turned to see Rickon gazing at them shyly. He was younger than Nathan, probably six or seven. He had wild brownish hair with copper in it, and blue eyes. "Oh…uh.." Nathan glanced at Arya to see her looking oddly at the little boy. Her brow had furrowed slightly as she stared at him and she stepped forwards slowly. "What is your name?" she asked. "Rickon," the little boy said. "I'm Arya. This is Nathan." The boys smiled shyly at each other. Arya bent down on one knee and looked at the little boy. "Can you keep a secret, Rickon?" Nathan turned to her, wide-eyed. Was she going to tell him? "Yes," Rickon answered. Arya leaned in closer. "We're trying to break a magical curse. It's on everyone in town, but no one really knows about it." Rickon's eyes grew as wide as saucers. "Arya!" Nathan hissed urgently. "It's ok," Arya said calmly. "You won't tell anyone, will you? Not even your dad." Rickon shook his head. "What about Osha?" "Who's that?" Nathan asked. "My nanny. She lives with us." "Don't tell her either," Arya declared. "Cross my heart," Rickon promised. His eyes shone. "Is there really magic?" "Yes," Nathan said. "But we have to keep it a secret. Not everyone can know, ok?" Rickon nodded excitedly. "Let me help!" Arya placed a hand on his shoulder. "You are now part of Operation Cobra," she said solemnly.

A/N: Wooo new recruit! Ruh-roh, what could Cersei be up to? Also, I love it when people make playlists for shows and/or characters that they love, so I decided to share my work in progress playlist for SanSan. These are songs I usually listen to when I'm writing their scenes or reading other fanfics about them.

I Will Possess Your Heart - Death Cab for Cutie

Safe & Sound - Taylor Swift and The Civil Wars

The Sounds of Silence - Simon & Garfunkel

In My Arms - Plumb

Mirrors - Justin Timberlake (I also enjoy the cover of this song by Boyce Avenue)

Titanium - cover by Madelyn Bailey

Alone Together - Fallout Boy

Cold - Crossfade

A Thousand Years - Christina Perri

Flightless Bird, American Mouth - Iron &Wine

Breath of Life - Florence and the Machine

I Caught Myself - Paramore

Little Bird - Ed Sheeran

Warrior - Foxes

Eyes on Fire - Blue Foundation

Radioactive - Imagine Dragons (the cover by Pentatonix and Lindsey Stirling is amazing as well)

When I look at You - Miley Cyrus (not a fan of her, just the song)

What About Love? - Heart

Heaven Tonight - Yngwie Malmsteen


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Nathan and Arya managed to grab seats on top of an empty wagon that had been used for carting hay around. They sipped on the spiced apple cider and watched as the stage was being set up for the band. "Arya," Nathan started, "How did you know to tell Rickon?" Arya glanced at him, her long face serious. "I'm not sure…it was kind of how you described feeling the need to tell me about the curse. I just…had to. It felt fitting. But he's just a little kid, so I'm not sure how much help he will be for Operation Cobra." Nathan pondered this for a moment. "Well, he can keep his ears open and listen. Most people won't pay attention to kid even if they're talking about something serious. And besides, we have one more person on our side." "You're right," Arya grinned.

Rickon had to stay at the booth with Davos and Osha, or Nathan would have asked him to join them. The day was winding down, and lights that had been strung in the trees were now lit. Everyone was trying to find a good spot to watch the band, which was called _The Brotherhood Without Banners_. They played every year for the festival and other events, and were well loved by the town for their ranging genres of music. They played everything from rock to classical. Several of the members were on the stage, setting up the instruments and equipment. One boy, who looked like a teenager, was sitting to the side with a guitar. He shaggy black hair, but his head was bent so Arya couldn't see his face. She wondered if he was a new member to the band.

"Crap, there's my mom," Nathan said suddenly. "Arya, quick, get down." Arya ducked down under the wagon seat, trying not to spill her drink. Nathan turned his face away, hoping his mother kept walking by and didn't see him. He snuck a peek and to his relief, someone had called her over to a booth farther away.

"She's gone," Nathan whispered. Arya clamored back up onto the seat. "That was a close one." "It stinks that we have to sneak around so much," he sighed. "It makes things harder, but hey, now we can practice being secret agents," Arya responded cheerfully. "And if your mom can have spies and secrets, then so can we." Nathan studied the girl sitting next to him. "How do you come up with all this stuff?" he asked, truly curious. She shrugged. "I watch a lot of movies. And Sansa and I are expert at getting past Petyr at the hotel so we don't have to pay rent." They sat in silence for a moment. "I wonder if the Hunter will teach me how to shoot a gun," Arya spoke. Nathan coughed on his drink. "Why would he?" "Because I can make his life miserable," she said in a smug tone. "And because we should learn how, for Operation Cobra. You can't be a secret agent and not know how to shoot a gun." "Oh," Nathan answered. He had held Sheriff Jaime's gun once, when he was at their house. Jaime had even shown him how to re-load it. Then Cersei had come into the room and freaked.

"That would be pretty cool," Nathan said. "Are you going to ask him?" "Maybe." Arya swung her legs. "I'll have to figure out where he lives. I'm not sure Sansa will tell me." She laughed. "I'd like to see your mom come after me once I learn how to shoot a gun! I'll be like 007!" Nathan laughed as well, but half-heartedly. He had seen some of the men his mother used, once.

He had come to her office one day after school and seen two men sitting inside, talking to her. One was dark-haired, had creepy eyes and an evil smile. The other had looked much older than he was, with whitish hair that was once brown, missing, broken teeth, and a limp. Nathan had sensed bad vibes from them, and knew immediately that they were working for his mother. And they did not look like men to be messed with. Nathan wasn't sure what a twelve-year-old like Arya could against sinister people like that.

Sansa stood under a tree near the stage with Sandor. They had walked around, checking out some of the other contests and attractions. Most of them Sandor scoffed at, calling them child's play. When they passed the bull-riding arena, he had made a bet with some man about who hold on the longest, a shaggy black-haired boy or a tall athletic girl. The boy had been the one to fly off first, much to Sandor's amusement. He had bet on the girl.

"How did you know who to bet on?" Sansa asked him. "I saw that girl riding it earlier, before the shooting contest. She was making bets on herself. And winning," he chuckled. His dark eyes roamed the crowd of people gathering near the stage, then leaned over to Sansa. "Pretty boy is watching you again." Sansa whipped her head around and saw Harold standing with some other guys near the middle of the field, giving them both a dark look. She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help feeling a little creeped out. "I don't think he likes you much," she answered. Sandor snorted. "Like I could give a rat's ass what he thinks of me. You, on the other hand…I don't like how he's gazing at you." The Hunter sent Harold a look that would have frozen water on a summer's day. The young man clearly felt challenged and drew himself up sharply, his face twisting in fury. "What a scrawny runt," the Hunter rasped. "He wouldn't even make me work up a sweat." Sansa felt a slight panic and she gripped his arm. "Don't fight!" she pleaded. Sandor switched his gaze to her anxious face. "I won't…unless he tries something, alright little bird?" She relaxed and smiled, nodding. Then a thought struck her, and she couldn't help but giggle. "Although," she said, trying to be nonchalant. "We can still make him mad." She reached out and took Sandor's hand in hers, lacing their fingers together, and waited to see if Sandor would go along with it.

The big man was clearly surprised at her bold move, but he recovered quickly and a large smirk slowly spread over his face as he grasped her hand pulled her closer to him. His hand was much larger than hers, and rough and brown and warm, almost entirely enveloping her small white one. He slowly rubbed against her skin with his thumb, sending an electric shock through her arm. Sansa felt her face grow warm and let her gaze wander to see if Harold saw them. The reaction she caught almost made her bust out laughing. Harold looked like he was going crap himself, he was so angry. Sandor followed her stare and he did start laughing, squeezing her hand.

Cersei stood off to the side under a pavilion, sipping hot cider, her green eyes narrowing as she watched the couple in front of her. Someone moved to stand next to her and she turned her head, surprised to see Brienne. "Hello, Officer Brienne," she greeted with false warmth that sounded true. "Evening, Madam mayor. Are you enjoying the festival?" Brienne asked politely. Though she didn't much care for the mayor personally, she was a respected woman, in a position of leadership, and she was involved with Jaime: all reasons Brienne tried to be friendly towards her. "I am, thank you." Cersei glanced back over to the couple, then spoke. "I believe Jaime told you to keep an eye out for that red-haired girl there. Sansa, is it?" Brienne's eyes landed on the pretty girl who was standing under a tree with the Hunter. "Yes, he did," she said carefully. "After what happened a few weeks ago, we both thought it best if one of us kept an eye out. She's a good girl, and kind."

Cersei nodded, thinking over her words. "Then…why is she being allowed to consort with a dangerous man like the Hunter?" Brienne's brow furrowed slightly. "The Hunter has posed no threat to her. He's the one who saved her from the attackers. Surely Sheriff Jaime told you this." "He did. But it does not mean that the Hunter may have some ulterior motives himself. You know his wild background as well as Jaime, Brienne. A man like that should not be allowed near an innocent girl like Sansa. As mayor, it is my duty care for the well-being of every civilian in this town, and Sansa is no exception." She sighed. "Poor girl is an orphan, with no family to look after her. All she has is Arya. I fear that the Hunter may take advantage of this situation." She turned to stare up at Brienne. "With all due respect, Madam Mayor," Brienne began. "If Sansa herself has not established a wish to for him to stay away from her, and he has shown no acts of aggression or...ulterior motives, as you say, towards her, then by law there is nothing we can do to keep them from seeing each other. I will continue to keep a watch on her, but nothing more." Brienne bowed her head slightly and took her leave.

Cersei watched her go, her fingers gripping her cup so tightly some of the cider spilled over the edge. Very well. She would take matters into her own hands, as usual. If you wanted something done, you had to do it yourself. Cersei turned to watch the two figures again.

"Beautiful sight, isn't it?" a voice interrupted her thoughts. "Mr. Steel. What do you want?" Cersei was not in the mood to deal with him, especially after their last conversation. "I'm merely mingling with the townsfolk, enjoying the festival, as you are, Madam Mayor," he said lightly. "Interesting couple, don't you think?" he nodded towards Sansa and Sandor. Cersei pierced her lips together. "How so?" "Well, they are so very opposite. She's a beautiful young girl, he's a scarred bulk of a man. It's truly fascinating," he said, stroking his chin. "how, even in another world, without remembering their true selves, two people can always find each other."

A/N: I just want to say thank you to all my lovely readers/ reviewers! Your feedback means so much to me :) I'm glad you are enjoying the story so far.

Here's some more songs I added to the SanSan playlist, in case you're interested:

Blue Eyes - Elton John

Fix You - Coldplay

My Immortal - Evanescence


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Woooo another long chapter! Get your party hats on ^^

Chapter 18

Twilight hugged the town as the festival drew to an end, the crowd gathering eagerly by the stage. Most of the booths and stands were closed unless they sold food and drink. The band was almost completely set up, their shiny instruments waiting in their places. The lights were turned on and adjusted. People pressed near, wanting a good view.

Sansa felt excited as she waited for the music to finally start. She had sung with the band a few times in the past, but she had declined this year because she was so busy at the diner. She missed it though; the heat of the lights as they partially blinded her view of the roaring crowd, the cool feel of the microphone in her hand, the rise and swell of music as it enveloped her, the pleasant straining of her vocal chords as she sang. A part of her began to feel sad for not including herself in the night's show, but another part of her was glad because she could spend it with Sandor.

She glanced down shyly at their hands that were still intertwined. The Hunter didn't really seem like a guy to want to hold hands, but he apparently didn't mind the contact, since he held on. She looked up and sent him a soft smile. His gray eyes turned to study her face, and he let go of her hand. Sansa felt a sting of rejection until she realized that he was placing his arm around her shoulders instead. She glanced up at him through her lashes and he was still watching her, a look of amusement on his face as his eyes darkened with something she couldn't comprehend.

"Sansa!" A voice called out. The red-haired girl turned quickly towards the sound and saw one of the band members hurrying towards them. "Thank goodness I found!" He stopped, panting. "What is it, Markus?" Sansa asked. "Listen, I know it's last minute, but Margaery can't sing tonight. Her throat started hurting badly. Could you fill in for her?" Sansa stared at him, dumb-struck. "I-I don't know…do I know the songs?" she asked, dazed. He nodded. "Yea, they're ones you know from last year. I'll give you the list. And you have plenty of time to warm-up. What do you say?" "Umm…"Sansa glanced nervously at Sandor. She wanted to sing, but she didn't want to ditch him, especially when the evening was going so well. To her surprise he was grinning at her. "You sing?" "Yes," she nodded. "Does she sing?" Markus laughed. "She's amazing! I've never heard a voice like hers." Sansa blushed. "I'm not _that_ good." "C'mon, Sansa, please?" Markus looked like he might fall to his knees and beg her. Sansa was about to open her mouth when she felt Sandor lean into her and whisper in her ear. "Go, Little Bird. I want to hear you sing." His hot breath on her ear gave her goose bumps. She swallowed hard. "Are you sure?" He nodded, taking his arm away. "Well…ok." "Great!" Markus grabbed her hand and drug her towards the stage. Sansa sheepishly gave Sandor a wave and followed him.

They hurried around to the back of the stage to where some tents had been set up for the band and crew. "I got her!" Markus called excitedly. A few of the other members rushed forward, grabbing Sansa's hands and shaking them. "You're a lifesaver," one gushed. "Thank God for you, girl," another said. Sansa smiled and said it was no trouble, but flutters of nervousness had begun to spread through her. She was always a bit nervous before and during a show, and that was normal. But tonight she would be singing in front of the Hunter, and suddenly she felt self-conscious.

She allowed Markus to lead her to one of the tents and set her down, giving her a packet of paper. She read the titles of the songs in the order of which they were being performed, nodding as she saw the ones she knew. Four of them were circled with a pink highlighter. "Those are the songs you'll sing with us," Markus pointed out. Sansa felt relieved. These songs she knew very well; they were on her ipod and she listened to them regularly. "Anything else you need?" Markus asked. "I've gotta go finish tuning my bass." "I think I'm ok. I'm just going to go to the piano and warm up a bit," Sansa replied. He patted her on the shoulder and left. Sansa stood and walked to the spare keyboard that was set up to the side and began playing warm-up exercises.

"Sansa!" Margaery rushed over to her. "Thanks for filling in! You're wonderful." "It's ok. How's your throat?" Sansa peered at her curiously. "Shouldn't you go home and get out of the night air?" "Oh…yea, I'll be leaving soon. But Sansa!" Margaery tilted her chin up. "Let me fix your makeup. You need to stand out in the bright lights!" Despite Sansa's protests, Maragery dragged a chair over and opened a large make-up box filled with products. "Margaery, I need to warm-up some more…" she sputtered as the other girl began to smear something on her face. "This will only take a minute!" Margaery told her to close her eyes and she swiped some eyeshadow across her lids, giving her a smoky look. "This will really bring out thos pretty blue eyes of yours," Margaery gushed. Next she added some black liner and mascara, and some lip gloss. "There! You look perfect!" She held up a mirror for Sansa to see. The red-haired girl couldn't help but feel pleased by the results. She liked make-up, but she usually wore only the bare necessities: a little eye shadow, mascara and gloss. Her skin was always smooth and pimple-free, so she never felt the need to use foundation. Margaery had transformed her though, and while Sansa could see it wasn't too drastic, she did look really pretty. "Thank you!" "You're welcome, girl." Margaery gave her a hug and winked. "Break a leg!"

Sansa watched her leave and finished warming up. Standing, she nervously approached the stage, waiting for the show to start. A tall boy with shaggy black hair approached her with a grin. "Hey, I'm Gendry," he said, holding his hand out. She shook it. "Sansa." "I'm the newest addition to the band," he said. "I guess we'll be singing together." Sansa nodded, smiling. She suddenly felt relaxed. The boy had an air about him that made you feel less tense. "Are you nervous?" she asked hesitantly. "Yea," he nodded. "But I'm pumped up too. This is going to be great." He flashed her another easy-going grin. "I'm glad to have the chance to sing with you. Everyone says you're amazing." Sansa blushed, glad that it was darker near the stage. "Thanks. Margaery is good too." "Oh, yea…she is, but I've heard you're better."

"Alright folks! Let's give a warm welcome to _The Brotherhood Without Banners_!" a man on stage announced. The crowd roared and shouted, clapping and hollering out their favorite band members. "Show time," Gendry said to Sansa and he headed off to join the other members as they walked up the stairs onto the stage. Sansa wasn't singing until later, so she leaned against a pole, breathing in and out. The stage lit up, and the crowd roared again as the band began to play some of their classic rock songs first.

Arya and Nathan stood in the wagon, cheering with the rest of the crowd as the band played. The music swelled, filling the air, and the excitement of the audience was thick and contagious. The boy with the shaggy black hair was rocking out on an electric guitar and singing. "He's great!" Arya shouted to Nathan. "I've never seen him before! Who is he?" "I think he's a mechanic!" Nathan shouted back. "I saw him when mom took her car to get fixed once." Arya nodded in understanding.

After rocking out to a few more songs, the band members switched around, some picking up other instruments. The boy with the black hair, walked up to the microphone and began addressing the crowd, who shouted enthusiastically back at him, eager for the switch-up. A tall girl walked on stage to stand at a microphone near him, and the audience roared, recognizing her. "SANSA!?" Arya gasped. "I didn't think she was singing this year!" The girl on stage smiled and laughed along with the one of the drummer, who cracked some kind of joke. The boy standing next to her began to play his guitar, and the band slipped into a bit of a slower song. He started singing, then Sansa joined him. Her clear, gentle voice filled the air as she matched each note perfectly. As they sang on, Arya could see her friend slowly losing her nervousness and beginning to enjoy herself on the stage. "Wooo! Sing it, Sansa!" Arya and Nathan cheered from the wagon.

They were about two songs in when Nathan noticed a familiar figure moving through the crowd towards the wagon. "Oh no! Arya, it's my mom!" "Run for it!" Arya grabbed his arm and jerked him as she jumped off the wagon, almost pulling them on top of other people. Stumbling to their feet, they began pushing their way through the web of bodies. "It's too late," Nathan panted. "Even if we run, she saw me with you. I'm in for it!" His heart dropped, wondering what his mother would not only do to him, but Arya as well. Her threat echoed in his head. "We'll figure something out!" Arya came to a stop by a tree and he almost collided into her. She searched the mass of people, trying to see if Cersei was following them. "I don't see her," she said. Nathan leaned against the tree. He felt terrible. Not for running from his mom, but because he had now officially put Arya in danger. "Arya," he said in a whisper. "You've got to be careful. My mom…she could do something now..." Arya whirled around to look at him. "Hey! It's ok, Nathan. Your mom won't get in the way of Operation Cobra." She gripped his shoulders. "We're a team! And we will break the curse, no matter what! It's not going to be easy, but we can do it!" Nathan nodded. "I know, I just…I don't want you to get hurt." He looked at her with sad eyes. Arya's face softened. "Don't worry about me, I'll be ok." She peered around the tree again and, satisfied that the coast was clear, she beckoned to Nathan. "Let's go to your tree house and hide out there." He nodded, and the two children darted off, zigzagging through the dancing people.

A man stood under a clump of trees, smoking, his hands in his pockets. He watched the band quietly. This wasn't really his scene, but the mayor had required him to be there. Inside he was really itching fr some action. Things had been too quiet lately, and he was eager for an opportunity to present itself.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he took it out, grinning when he saw who it was. He opened the message and read, taking a long drag on his cigarette. He smiled and put the phone back in his pocket, and looked around at his companions leaning around the other trees.

"It's showtime, gentlemen," he announced. One by one, the men slowl slunk off into the dark. The man took one more pull on his cigarette before dropping it to the ground, snuffing it out before he followed them, his other hand feeling the knife in his pocket.

Sansa walked back down the stairs next to the stage, her legs and hands shaking slightly with the after affect of nervousness. Her heart had been pounding when she first walked on, and she was sure her voice trembled when she began to sing, but as the song went on she began to enjoy it and slowly lost herself to the music and the excitement of the crowd. Gendry had been fun to sing with; he had great stage presence. Sansa could tell the crowd really liked him, and she knew the band had done well accepting his as part of their group.

She accepted a bottle of water from one the band's assistants and went to find a chair to sit on, waiting for the rest of the show to wrap up. Sighing, she let her mind wander and remembered the Hunter. She wondered if he had liked her singing, and also how she was going to find him afterwards. When the show was over the crowd was going to turn into a churning frenzy as people headed home or out to clubs and bars. She wished she had thought to tell him to wait by the tree for her. Another thought invaded her mind: what if he was done hanging out with her for the night? Maybe he wanted to do something else and not have a girl dragged along? Would he just leave without saying goodbye?

Sansa chewed her lip, knowing she was probably working herself up over nothing, but she couldn't help it. The Hunter was making her feel things, and it was very new and a bit alarming, yet she liked it.

As the last song ended, she stood and walked over to the metal railings that had been set up around the sides of the stage to prevent people from going behind it. Craning her neck and standing on her tip-toes, she searched the area near the trees where they had been standing earlier, trying to find him, but there were just too many people still jumping and dancing and shouting. Feeling dejected, she began to climb back down the railing got sit down again when a hand landed on her shoulder. "Little Bird," the Hunter said, grinning at her. Sansa's look of astonishment quickly changed to one of delight, although she couldn't help but wonder how he always managed to sneak up on her like that. Must be from hunting in the woods; you had to learn to be stealthy.

"Hi!" she beamed at him, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. His hand stayed on her arm as he leaned on the railing towards her, mimicking their positions from earlier that day during the shooting contest. "Hey," he said, mouth twitching. "That Markus wasn't fooling around, girl. You really can sing," he said, his voice deepening as his grey eyes bore took in her face. Sansa blushed, feeling relieved and giddy at the same time. "Thank you. I'm glad you liked it." Her eyes fell and rested on his hand that was placed on her arm. The Hunter glanced at the stage, then back to her. "Do you have to stay, or can we get out of here?" he asked. "Oh, uh, no, I guess we can leave," Sansa answered, a bit surprised, but pleased that he wanted to hang out with her more. She quickly climbed over the railing to join him on the other side. "Good. 'Cause this place is about turn into a stampede," Sandor took her hand again and led her through the crowd. Sansa thought briefly that she should probably tell Arya that she was going, then shrugged. Arya had ditched her in the first place, and she knew how to get home.

They eventually made it out onto the street where Sandor's truck was parked. Sansa hopped in, glad to get away from all those people at last. There was only so much pushing and shoving she could take. Sandor turned the truck on and began to drive down the street, avoiding other festival-goers who were heading to their own vehicles.

As they drove, the Hunter's arm came up to rest on the back of the seat, his other hand on the wheel. The truck's front was all one seat with no separation, and though it was spacious, Sansa could feel his hand touch her shoulders. Prickles ran down her spine, and she tried desperately to think of something to say. "Where are we going?" she asked timidly, twirling with a piece of her hair. Sandor grinned. "There's a place I know that should be interesting tonight. That is, if you're game?" He turned his head to glance at her as they came to a red light. The cabin of the truck was dark, and the streetlights only illuminated parts of his face as he gazed at her, a slight smirk still on her face. Sansa swallowed as she stared back. She wasn't sure what this place was, but she trusted Sandor, and she felt safe with him. "Sure, I'm game," she replied. He nodded and turned his face back to the road.

They arrived at what looked like a bar, but it was clear from the music playing that dancing was going on inside as well. The parking lot was packed, but they managed to find a space not too far away. Sansa got out of the truck, nervous again. She had never been to a place like this. She glanced up as she met the Hunter around the other side. "What if they don't let me in?" she asked. He laughed. "They'll let you in. You're with me, Little Bird. Come on." His eyes glinted mischievously at her, and she felt warmth spread through her. "Ok," she said and followed him to the door, keeping close.

No one even stopped them at the door and they entered a large and busy room. Tables everywhere were occupied and people milled about, talking, drinking, and laughing. On the other side of the room a dance floor had been created, complete with booking music and flashing lights. Men and women were dancing to the beat. To their right was a large bar, with shelves of all kinds of alcohol on the other side. The air smelled of beer and smoke and sweat.

Sansa shyly followed the Hunter to the bar counter and took a seat next to him, looking all around. A part of her had always been a bit curious about these kinds of places, but now that she was actually in one, she didn't really understand the appeal. She started as Sandor nudged her arm. "What do you want to drink?" he asked her. "Oh…I can't..." "Yes you can," he smirked at her. "You deserve it, after that performance you gave earlier. Tell you what, I'll order you something, and you have to at least try it." "Well…ok," Sansa relented. There wasn't any harm in that, was there?

The bartender came to take their order, and the Hunter asked for a whiskey and some kind tea. Sansa felt confused. You could put alcohol in tea? She shrugged inwardly, deciding she would find out soon enough.

It was warmer in the bar, and Sansa found herself wishing she had left her coat in the truck. Sandor sat close to her, his arm brushing hers, and he leaned over to say something to her. "I'll be right back. He should bring our drinks soon." He gave her a pat on the shoulder and stood, making his way over to a hallway that Sansa guessed led to the bathrooms. Alone, she watched the dancing for a few seconds, then turned in her seat to gaze at all the bottles on the shelves.

"Hey there," said a voice to her left, startling her. A man, clearly tipsy, was leaning on the counter, his eyes roving her body in a way that Sansa did not appreciate. A chill ran through her. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing her all alone?" the man asked, placing his hand on her arm. Sansa, alarmed, pulled it away. "I'm not alone," she said. "Oh?" the man glanced around dramatically, swaying slightly. "I don't see anyone with you. C'mon honey, I'll show you a good time." Sansa felt heavy hand fall on her shoulder, and looked up in relief to see Sandor. He was frowning menacingly at the other man. "She's with me," he growled. The man laughed, too drunk to understand he needed to back off. "Ohhh sureee," he slurred. "Like you expect me to believe a pretty girl like this is with _you_, Hunter?" He placed his hand on Sansa's arm again, leering as she shrunk away.

In a flash, the Hunter had stepped around Sansa and caught the man by the throat, lifting him with a powerful arm so that his feet dangled off the ground. "Do you want me to prove it, worm?" the Hunter hissed, his scarred face twisting dangerously. The man sputtered and gasped for air, his face turning red. "N-no!" he managed pitifully. Sandor released his hold, dropping the man to the floor, where he fidgeted and coughed. Sansa's mouth was open and looked around them, hoping that Sandor's actions hadn't brought them more attention. To her surprise, only a handful of people watched, and as soon as they saw it was over, they turned back to what they had been doing. No one seemed to care, as if it was a normal occurrence. In a place like this, Sansa guessed that it probably was.

Sandor turned back to her, his frame looming over her even though she was sitting on a high stool. The bartender placed down their drinks. Sandor took his beer and motioned her to follow him. "Bring your drink," he rasped. Sansa took hold of the glass of amber colored tea and gingerly slipped down from the stool, following Sandor through the room. He stopped at an empty corner booth and sat down. Sansa slid in after him till their were both seated in the middle.

He looked at her and chuckled. "I leave you just to take a piss, and the rats descend." Sansa couldn't help but giggle at that. He nodded at her drink. "Try it." She lifted the glass and took a dainty sip. To her surprise, it didn't taste bad. It actually just tasted like good southern sweet tea. She could barely taste the alcohol. "What is this?" she asked, taking another sip. "Sweet tea vodka," Sandor informed her as he took a swig out of his beer bottle.

The rest of the night seemed to pass without time really moving at all. Sansa and Sandor stayed in their corner and talked, ignoring the people around them. She finished her drink and ordered cups of water after that. Sandor had a few more beers, and she was amazed to see how well he held his liquor. He barely looked buzzed.

Sandor asked her about herself and Arya, and she told him all about the car accidents that they didn't remember, and that they had decided to stick together. She told him about working at the diner and living at Petyr's hotel, and how she secretly wanted to teach music at the school one day. She worried a little about talking so much, but Sandor seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and he was a good listener.

Their conversation trailed off onto other subjects. Sandor told her a few of his hunting stories, then they began to survey other people in the room with them, and make jokes. Sandor pointed out one drunk couple dancing and whispered something that made her laugh till tears came to her eyes. They even ordered boneless chicken wings and mozzarella sticks, and Sandor teased her when she said the wings were too hot.

She ordered another sweet tea vodka and drank that one a little faster, feeling happy and flustered. Slowly through the evening they had moved closer to each other in the booth till they were sitting leg to leg, and the Hunter's arm was draped over the back behind her shoulders. Sansa smiled at him then turned her eyes to watch the party that was growing across the room. She felt tired and energized at the same time. Her thoughts began to wander back to Arya, wondering what the younger girl was up to, when she felt the Hunter's hand began to slowly caress her shoulder. The electric shock ran through her body again, and she realized her palms were sweating. It wasn't a big deal for him to put his arm around her, but it made her feel suddenly anxious. Something was different; something had shifted in the air around them and the little space they had together, and Sansa wondered what to do.

His hand moved slightly down her arm and back to her shoulder, and Sansa decided she liked it, and leaned into him a little more, turning her body towards him slightly. She felt him shift, and suddenly his face was in her hair, and his nose and mouth gently brushed against her ear and temple. She froze, his hot breath fanning the side of her face as repeated the action. "Mmmm," he murmured huskily in her ear. "Your hair smells good." She gulped. "It's..it's lavender," she offered weakly. She heard him chuckle, then his hand on her shoulder slipped down to her waist.

Despite her mounting nervousness, Sansa wanted to find out what else he would do, when she had the urge to pee. Feeling a bit embarrassed she pulled away from him. "I have to go to the ladies' room," she said shyly, hoping he wouldn't think she was trying to get away from him. She peered at him under her lashes and was relieved to see that he was smirking. "Alright," he nodded. She slipped out of the booth and walked on shaking legs towards the hallways she had seen him go down earlier and found a door marked "Women". She opened the door and entered the bathroom.

It was a mess. Toilet paper was everywhere, along with dirt what looked like spilled drinks. Makeup was smeared on the counter and mirrors, and the air smelled stale and of vomit, with a myriad of perfumes trying to cover it up. Sansa found the cleanest stall available and used it quickly, wanting to get back to Sandor. As she opened the stall door and approached the sink, she was shocked to see Margaery exit another stall. "Sansa! Oh my gosh! What are you doing here?" Margaery gave her a crushing hug, and Sansa could smell the alcohol on her. Margaery had changed form her previous stage outfit to a short, clingy black dress with long sleeves. "I thought you would be home," Sansa replied. "I thought your throat was hurting?" Margaery waved a hand through the air flippantly. "Ohhhh thattt! I just said that so I could get out of singing. I had a hot date." She giggled and stumbled towards the sink, fixing her bangs. "Besides, you sounded great! Everyone's talking about it."

Sansa slowly washed her hands and glanced at herself in the mirror, pleased to see she still looked good. The makeup hadn't even smeared. "Sooo what are you doing here?" Margaery asked, pulling around on the front of her dress so her boobs looked better. "Um..I'm here with…" Sansa realized that the other girl might not know Sandir by his real name so she said, "the Hunter." Margaery whirled around. "So it's true!" she squealed. "I heard someone saying he was totally flirting with you at the shooting contest, but I couldn't believe it! Wow, Sansa!" Her eyes were bright and excited. "Has he kissed you yet?" "What? No," Sansa sputtered, blushing. "Oh…well you should totally let him." Margaery turned back to the mirror. "He's got that whole dark brooding thing going on. Plus, scars are totally hot. And he looks really jacked." She turned and winked at Sansa, whose face had grown redder. "He's more than that," she offered feebly. "Ohhh is he?" Margaery giggled. "You'll have to tell me all about it, girl. But hey I gotta get back to my date."

Sansa followed her friend out of the bathroom, watching as Margaery moved her hips way more than necessary as she crossed the room, giving Sansa a wink and wave. Sansa shook her head and made her way back over to Sandor. He gave her a raised eyebrow as she sat down. "Who was that?" "My friend Margaery. She teaches at the school," Sansa explained. Sandor's mouth twitched in amusement. "Let me guess: she's _that_ friend." Sansa laughed. "Yea…she's a great girl, just likes to party a lot." "Ah, yes." Sandor nodded at her empty cup. "Want something else?" Sansa hesitated. She didn't really feel the effects of the alcohol much despite having drunk tow glasses full. Maybe the food was keeping it at bay. "I guess one more is ok." Sandor waved a waiter over and ordered their drinks, and Sansa leaned back against the booth, waiting to see if Sandor would put his arm around her again. Her conversation with Margaery in the bathroom had made her feel inexperienced and young, as her previous dates with boys had not even gone as far as she and Sandor had. She bit her lip, wondering uncertainly what she was supposed to do.

Sure enough, his arm snaked around her waist again and he pulled her closer to him. Sansa felt her heart pound, and this time she looked up at him. Even sitting down, he was a huge guy, and she felt even smaller next to him. He met her gaze, smirking slightly as his thumb rubbed against her waist. With his other hand he reached over and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. Sansa stayed still, transfixed by his dark grey eyes. They looked like the sea during and after a storm.

Their drinks arrived, and they began to joke about the other people in the bar again, laughing. About halfway through her drink Sansa felt the alcohol kick in, and instead of feeling nauseous like she expected, it made her feel giddy, similar to what she felt earlier, singing on stage. She found herself snuggled against Sandor, giggling as he whispered something in her ear about a passerby. She said something back, and he howled with laughter, making her laugh more. He must have finally been feeling the effects of his own drinks, since he had had more than she. Looking back on the evening, Sansa could not have told you what they were laughing about, only that it had been hilarious.

The music in the bar continued to blare, and more people joined the dance floor, bodies churning and moving to the beat. Sansa spotted Margaery dancing with some guy, and she felt scandalized seeing her friend acting that way, her dress riding up dangerously high. Seeing her gaze, Sandor smirked at her. "Do you want to dance?" "In that sweaty hot mess? No thank you," Sansa laughed, taking a last sip of her drink. Had she had another one? She couldn't remember. Sandor seemed both relieved and amused by her answer. "What time is it?" she asked him, leaning her head back so that it rested on his shoulder. Sandor fished in his pocket for his cell phone. "It's 1 in the morning." "What?" Sansa shot up, staring at him in shock. "I have to get home! I have to work! Ughhhh…" she slapped her hand on her forehead. Sandor laughed. "Don't worry, Little Bird, I'll take you home." They slid out of the bunk and after he paid the bill they left.

Sansa took a deep breath of the crisp cold air, reveling as it filled her lungs. It woke her out of the haze she had been slipping into, and it was a welcome refresher after the thick air of the bar. She followed Sandor to his truck and got in. As they pulled away, she suddenly felt a surge of bravery, and she slid across the street and settled against his arm, her head leaning on his shoulder. He smirked and moved his arm around her. "I'm tired," she announced with a yawn. His snicker filled the dark cabin. "You've had a quite a night." They drove in silence the rest of the way to Petyr's hotel. "The next time you come to my house, I have something to show you," he said softly against her hair. "Hmmm? What is it?" Sansa asked sleepily. His woodsy scent was warm and comforting, and she felt herself growing drowsy. "You'll have to find out," he chuckled.

They parked in front of the hotel and to Sansa's surprise, the Hunter got out of the truck. Puzzled, she got out as well, gazing up at him as he approached her. Slowly he backed her up until she felt the cool metal of the truck against her. He placed a hand on either side of her and looked deep into her eyes, his face twitching and a smirk appearing. Sansa felt her breath hitch, unable to look away as his eyes lowered to her mouth. "I've been wanting to do this all night," he growled. He came closer and placed one hand under her chin, lifting her face. Sansa's heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst, and she raised her hands to his torso. Sensing her acceptance, the Hunter leaned in. Sansa let her eyes drift shut.

Headlights suddenly shone on them, and they both jumped, pulling away as they stared in the direction of the lights. Sansa shielded her eyes and saw the familiar markings of Sheriff Jaime's patrol car and red and blue lights.

A/N: You guys still love me, right? ;)

Some songs I listened to for inspiration:

Good Time - Owl City ft. Carly Rae Jepson

Don't Stop the Party - Black-Eyed Peas

Just Dance - Lady Gaga

Party Rock Anthem - LMFAO


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: I just want to address a couple of things: First of all, I apologize for the lack of page breaks in this story. I have line breaks on my program when I write the story, and I didn't realize that they weren't included when I upload the story on here. So, if any one has been confused with the switching back and forth between POVs, I'm so sorry! I'll be trying to figure something else out to use as a page break. Speaking of which, would you guys like each POV section to separated by the character's name? Or just an asterisk like what I have in this chapter? Let me know!

Second of all, I would also like to apologize for the shoddy editing in the last chapter. I try to run through the chapters before I upload to correct mistakes, but I missed several on the last one. Even I was confused by some of the mistakes lol.

Happy reading!

Chapter 19

Nathan and Arya raced through the dark streets towards the tree-house. Nathan wasn't sure why, but he had a sickening feeling settling in his stomach, probably over the fact that his mother had seen him and Arya together. Something had been a little off in her expression: anger mixed with finality. His mother could be a very severe woman, as he had seen in her campaigns, and ruthless in taking out those she deemed a liability. He paid attention to a lot more that happened in town than she thought, even searching her desk before.

They reached the tree house with no one stopping them, and climbed up the ladder, out of breath. "Whoo!" Arya exhaled with a little laugh. "That was crazy. You think we'll be followed?" "I don't know," Nathan admitted. He didn't want to seem paranoid and tell her he feared for her safety even more. Adults weren't supposed to hurt kids, but magic wasn't supposed to be real either, now was it?

After they had caught their breaths, Arya sighed and turned to him, resting her back against the wood wall. "I think…I think we should tell Sansa…about the curse." Nathan cocked his head. "You do? Really?" "Yea…I mean…it couldn't hurt I guess." She fixed her eyes on him. "Do you have that feeling when you see her?" Nathan nodded. "It's a bit different than before…but yes, I can't help but feel like I need to tell her…ever since I met her eyes in the diner all those weeks ago." Arya tipped her head back and stared up at the roof, thinking. "If she believes us…there will be four of us in Operation Cobra," she said with a smile. "How many people do you think we need to tell?" Nathan wondered. "Mr. Steel…maybe we should ask him." Arya grimaced. "No. I don't like him. He's fishy. Besides, we got Rickon to believe us just fine on our own, didn't we?" "Yea, I guess."

Nathan grabbed one of the blankets he kept in the tree house and pulled it over him. It was getting colder out. He could almost see his own breath. "Is there anyone else you think we could trust?" Arya asked him. He thought about it. "Well, Tyrion, the librarian, was the one to help me find the books on magic. Maybe we could talk to him." Arya nodded and yawned. "Sounds good to me." They whispered together for a while, trying to figure out more about the curse and who could have cast it.

Nathan didn't realize he had fallen asleep until someone was shaking his shoulder. "Nathan, wake up," Arya hissed. He looked at her, wiping his eyes and sitting up. "What is it?" "Shhh…someone's here," she whispered, peering around the doorway. Nathan scooted over and looked out the window. The night was dark, and all he could see were the trees, their leaves blowing softly in the wind. He squinted, trying to see through them. "I heard voices," Arya insisted.

A figure moved between two trees, and Nathan's pulse sped up. "I saw them," he said. He and Arya exchanged nervous glances. "What should we do?" "Kick the ladder over," Arya whispered. "They can't get up here then." "It's nailed to the boards," Nathan told her. "But I think there's a hammer in here." He stumbled around in the dark, feeling for the old tool box he kept there just in case. He found it quickly and pulled the hammer out. "Hurry," Arya said. He crawled back over to the doorway and began using the other end of the hammer to try to loosen the nails. One came out. "There's more than one," Arya gasped. "There's got to be five or six people." Nathan winced as he bashed his finger, but finally managed to pull the last nail out. He kicked the ladder and it fell to the ground with a thud.

A laugh reached them, making the hairs on Nathan's neck stand up and giving her a chill down her spine. It was the kind of laugh you heard in a scary movie, just when the main characters think that they're safe, only to discover they are far from it. A man appeared at the base of the tree, staring up at them. He was wearing a mask, but Nathan could see his eyes through the cut out holes, and the boy felt a tremor course through his body. It was like staring into the eyes of the Devil himself.

Other figures joined the man, flanking him and staring up at the trees. One of them linped a little, and carried a backpack. They were dressed all in black, with identical masks.

"Come on down, children," the first man called, amusement laced in his voice. "We just want to talk." He cackled again. Nathan and Arya stared at each other in fear. "What do you want?" Arya called down, wishing she had a flashlight. "Why don't you jump down and I'll tell you," the man answered. He nudged the ladder with his foot. "Cut off your only way down. Not very smart, are you?" "Smart enough to know a freak when I see one," Arya shot back. Nathan backed away from the entrance and began rummaging in the dark, searching for something to defend themselves with. He briefly thought of the swords in Mr. Steel's shop, then shook his head. What could swords do against guns anyways? He found a pocket-knife in the tool box and scurried back over to Arya.

One of the men began trying to climb the tree. "Stop it! Go away!" Nathan called, feeling a little foolish as he clutched the pocket-knife in his hand. What would that give him, one stab? Against a grown man, he would be easily over-powered. The man continued climbing, while the others hooted at him in encouragement. He was half-way up when Arya snatched up the hammer and threw it with all her might. It caught the man on the side of the head and his shoulder. With a yell, he lost his grip and fell, groaning as he hit the ground. The other figures immediately hushed, and one of them ran over to check on their fallen companion. "Take that, you bunch of freaks!" Arya yelled. The man in charge looked at them intently, fixing Arya with his glare, then Nathan. "Fine," he said in a deadly calm voice. "If you won't come down willingly, we'll just have to flush you out some other way, won't we. Theon!" The man with the limp came forward. "Yea, boss?" his voice was dry and hoarse. "Let's heat things up a bit, hmm?" The man called Theon nodded and bent to the ground opening the back-pack. He pulled something out and headed over to the tree.

Arya and Nathan looked at each other, puzzled. "I can't see what he's do-Oh!" Nathan gasped as he saw the flare of a match shine in the darkness. "They're going to burn the tree!" Arya exclaimed in horror. Sure enough, Nathan could see the flames growing as Theon had started a fire at the base of the tree. One of the other men came forward with a branch, dipped one end of it into the flames, then threw it into the house. It flew through one of the windows, immediately licking up the wood floor with a hungry, ravenous heat. Nathan and Arya backed away from it towards a corner.

"Nathan! We have to get out of here!" Arya coughed. "Comeon, children! Jump down, and we'll catch you!" The man called, laughing. "Or you'll burn alive!" Nathan peered through the growing smoke towards the back of the house. He grabbed Arya's hand. "This way!" he told her. "There's another way down!" They hurried over to the wall where a coil of rope was attached to a ring in the wood. Nathan grabbed the rope and threw it out a window. He tugged on it to make sure it was strong. "You first!" he said to Arya. She quickly clamored out the window and shimmied down the rope. Nathan tucked the knife in his teeth and followed her, letting go near the bottom and dropping to his feet.

They started to run when a man tackled him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. He struggled, reaching for the knife that had come loose from his mouth. Arya screamed and tackled the man, driving him from Nathan's back. But the other figures began to descend on them, one of them pulling Nathan roughly to his feet. The boy gripped the knife he had managed to snatch up, flipped it open, and stabbed the man in the stomach as hard as he could. The man shrieked and cursed letting him go. Nathan whirled, looking for Arya. A man had wrapped his arms around her, her back to his chest. Arya howled in rage and bit the man on the hand, then shoved her elbow into his stomach, wrenching free.

"Run, Nathan! Run!" She hollered and took off into the trees. "Arya!" Nathan yelled, but it was no use, she was gone. Nathan whirled, ducking under another man's arms and ran the opposite way, back up the trail to his house.

Jaime sighed as he slowly turned the police car down another street. After patrolling the festival all day, he was dead tired, and wanted nothing more then to go home and sleep. He glanced at the clock on his dashboard and sighed. Only one hour left, then he could declare the town "safe", and head back to the station. Brienne was patrolling a few streets down. He wondered if she was as tired as he was.

A while ago Brienne had called him, saying that she had seen the Hunter and Sansa heading into a bar. Jaime had agreed that she should keep an eye out. To be honest, a little underage drinking wasn't a big deal to him, but if the Hunter tried to hurt her anything…now _that _he cared about. Even though he thought Cersei's concerns were a bit dramatic, he did have to agree that Sansa and the Hunter hanging around together was odd. So he agreed with Brienne that she should patrol that area and keep an eye out for them.

He was just rolling down a street near the mayor's house when a boy burst out of no where, running into the street. Jaime hit the brakes, his headlights illuminating the boy's face as he froze in the road, looking wildly around. "Nathan?!" Jaime quickly got out of the car. Nathan ran towards him. "Jaime! You have to help! They're going to kill her!" "What are you talking about, Nathan? Who's going to kill who?" He gripped the boy's shoulders, noting that he was shaking. "Arya!" Nathan gasped, trying to catch his breath. "We were in my tree house…and some men came…and they started burning the tree when we wouldn't come down…we managed to get away but Arya ran into the woods and I think they chased after her!" Nathan grabbed Jaime's uniform. "Please help!" "Ok, Nathan, let me do some calls. Come sit in the car." Jaime helped the boy into the front seat, then pulled out the portable, calling for back-up to head to the east end of town. He heard back from several officers quickly, then he called the fire department and told them to head over.

They drove over to Nathan's house, and Jaime was surprised to see that Cersei's car wasn't there. As he got out of the car, he saw a dim line of smoke rising above the trees, hardly visible in the night sky. "Stay here, Nathan, I'm going to go check it out. The other police will be here soon." "Ok," Nathan said, scrunched down in the seat. He was still shaking and Jaime thought he heard him mutter, "It's my fault. It's all my fault."

Jaime pulled his gun out and took off down the path that led to the tree-house. No one was in sight, but the distinct smell of charred wood reached his nose, and the air started to get smoky. He reached the tree-house and gaped up at it.

The tree-house had almost been completely burned, and most of the branches were burned away as well. The fire had been put out though, and there was no sign of the men Nathan had described, or of Arya. Jaime stepped carefully, not wanting to mess up any footprints that had been left behind. Sirens pierced the air, and he decided to head back to his car, pulling out his walkie-talkie.

Brienne had been circling the same streets over and over, bored out of her mind. She wished everyone would just go home. Why did people have to keep partying after being at the festival all day? Surely they were tired too. What made it worse was that the Hunter's truck was still parked at the bar.

Brienne had been running through her conversation with the mayor all evening. Something about it had felt off, and she wondered if she should tell Jaime about it. Cersei's "concern" for Sansa seemed unusual since, after all, the woman had never bothered to even speak to the girl before, as far as Brienne knew. And Sansa was an adult; young, but capable of making her own choices. Brienne knew about the Hunter's past, but he had never done anything against a woman before, and she didn't think he would start now. And judging from what she had observed at the festival, Sansa seemed more than eager to accept his attentions.

She was a few streets down from the bar, pausing for a moment at a stop sign to put some extra sugar in her coffee, when she heard Jaime's voice over the radio, asking for back-up near the mayor's house. She immediately responded, but Jaime told her to stay where she was for now. Confused, she waited, wondering why he had refused her help. She heard a couple other officers respond, and she gripped the steering wheel, clenching her jaw. Something was clearly happening, and she was missing out! Frustrated, she ran a hand over her face, trying to calm down. Jaime knew what he was doing, but she couldn't help but feel perturbed at being left in the dark.

Her walkie-talkie crackled expectantly, and Jaime's voice came through. "Brienne?" She snatched it up. "I'm here," she answered. Jaime gave her a quick run-through of what was happening, her eyes growing wide as she listened. "Brienne, I need to go get Sansa and tell her what happened. She might know where Arya has gone." "I'm on my way." Brienne turned her lights on and hurried back to the bar. The truck was gone. "Crap!" She smacked the steering wheel and bit her lip, then turned and drove towards Petyr's hotel, hoping beyond hope that the hunter had stopped there to drop Sansa off.

Relief flooded her as she saw his truck parked in front of the building. Sansa was leaning against it with the Hunter standing in front of her. Brienne couldn't see what they were doing exactly, but as the Hunter leaned towards the petite girl in front of him she drove up, her headlights bathing them in yellow. The couple jumped and stared at her in surprise, and Brienne felt a little bad, realizing she was interrupting a kiss, but there were more important matters at hand.

She jumped out of the car and headed towards them. "Sansa," she said, noting how the Hunter stood in front of the girl protectively. "Sansa, something has happened to Arya." "What?" Sansa moved arounf the Hunter's large frame. "What do you mean?" "Your friend and Nathan, the mayor's son, were at is tree house, when some men came and set fire to the tree, threatening them. The children escaped, but Nathan said Arya ran into the woods. We have officers looking for her now. Do you know where she could have gone?" Sansa looked terrified. "I haven't seen her…oh my gosh is she ok?" The girl ran a shaking hand through her hair, her blue eyes beginning to tear up. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure of her condition," Brienne said. "Could you check your room? Maybe she came back here." Sansa nodded and turned towards the hotel door, sniffing as she rummaged through her pockets for her keys. Brienne glanced at the Hunter before following her. He moved behind her, and she stopped. "You can leave," she told him. He snorted. "Bugger that, I'm coming up." He shouldered past her and followed Sansa up the stairs. Brienne sighed and trudged up the stairs as well and down the hallway.

Sansa unlocked the door to the room she and Arya shared and walked in. "Arya?" she called in a shaky voice. The room was dark, and there was no answer. "She's not here," Sansa said, dejected and turning the light on. Brienne stepped around the room and poked her head in the bathroom. "It's possible she's still in the woods then." She spoke into her walkie-talkie. "Jaime?" The sheriff's crackly answer came through. "Arya isn't at the hotel. I'm here with Sansa and the Hunter now. They haven't seen her. She's probably still in the woods." Jaime confirmed with her. Brienne turned to Sansa, whose face was now streaked with tears. "What if she's hurt?" Sansa asked, wringing her hands. "Those men might be chasing her." Brienne awkwardly placed a hand on the girl's slim shoulder, trying to be comforting. "We'll find her, Sansa, don't worry. We have the police looking for her. I'm sure she's fine." "But she could be anywhere…" Sansa's voice trailed off and she looked past Brienne towards the doorway, where the Hunter was leaning against the frame. Trembling, the girl stepped up to him, her hands clasped in front of her. "Sandor," she said softly. "You could find her." Brienned whirled around. "What?" "It's true!" Sansa pleaded. "No one knows those woods better than Sandor." She turned her tearful eyes back to the bulk of a man in front of her. "Please, Sandor…you have to help…please. If anyone could find Arya in those woods, you can." Brienne had to admit the girl had a point. The Hunter wasn't just good at hunting animals; he was a tracker, and a darn good one.

The large man regarded Sansa's face thoughtfully, and his hand reached out towards her face, cupping her chin. "There, there, Little Bird. Don't cry. I'll find your friend, even if she is a pain in the ass." With a cry of joy, Sansa flung her arms around him.

A/N: Yikes!


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Cersei had gone to her office after the festival to await the news from Ramsay. She had given him very specific instructions as to what to do with Arya, and that he should leave Nathan alone and unharmed. After hours had gone by, however, Cersei began to feel anxious. It was late…or early in the morning, rather, and she hadn't heard a peep from her phone to indicate that all had gone as planned. Frustrated, she exited her office and headed for home, wondering where Nathan was. Hopefully he had gone home and was in bed.

She was a couple of streets away from her house when a fire truck passed her, its sirens blaring. Cersei stared after it, swallowing the uneasy feeling that was growing in her body and she sped after it. With a gasp, she discovered that it was pulling up to her house. Not only that, but every cop in the town seemed to be roving around her property. _What the-_

She pulled off, jumped out of her car, and ran over to the group of people. She spotted Jaime. "Jaime! What's going on?" She asked, grabbing his arm. The sheriff turned around, his phone to his ear. "Cersei! I was about to call you." He shut the phone. "Something has happened. Some men tried to attack Nathan and his friend Arya. They set fire to the tree house." Horrified, Cersei's mouth dropped open. That was not part of the plan! "The kids escaped the tree, and Nathan is here. But Arya ran into the woods and is missing, and we are trying to find her and the men." Cersei swallowed again, willing herself to remain calm. "Where is he?" Jaime led her over to the ambulance. Sitting on the back was Nathan, with a blanket draped over his shoulders. A nurse was looking at his arm.

"Nathan!" Cersei pushed the nurse out of the way and wrapped her arms around him. "I just heard what happened! Are you ok?" She pulled back to look at him. Nathan regarded her with an unhappy expression, dried tears on his sooty cheeks. "I'm fine," he said sullenly. Cersei frowned, surprised by his response. "Madam Mayor, if you please, I need to finish inspecting Nathan's arm," the nurse said softly. Cersei turned to glare at her, but moved away reluctantly.

The petite nurse continued rubbing some kind of ointment on Nathan's arm. "It's a light burn," she told Cersei. She handed her a bottle. "Make sure he keeps applying this ointment, and it will heal faster." The nurse smiled at Nathan and ruffled his hair before picking up her supplies and moving away.

Cersei sat down next to her son, her arm still around his shoulders. "Honey, are you sure you're ok?" she asked. Nathan seemed to cringe away from her, his head bent. "I know," he whispered. Cersei blinked. "Know what?" He refused to look at her. "I know it was you." Cersei froze. "What are you talking about, Nathan?" He finally glanced at her, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of disappointment and sadness. "You. You sent those men. You told me to stop hanging out with Arya, and I didn't, so you sent those men to kill her. I just happened to be in the way." Cersei stared at him, and ice spreading through her. "You don't know what you're talking about. Honey…you've just had a very trying experience…" "Don't," Nathan interrupted, shaking his head at her. "You threatened her. You told me." He sighed. "You might as well not pretend anymore, Mom. Because I know. And you're never going to convince me otherwise." He shrugged her arm off and hopped down from the ambulance, heading for the house. Cersei stayed rooted to her seat, clutching the metal beneath her.

This wasn't supposed to happen! She was going to strangle Ramsay! Angrily, Cersei whipped her phone out and dialed a number, walking away from the busy group of cops and firemen that were heading up and down the path to the tree house. The other line rang a few times, and finally someone picked up. "Madam Mayor," the smooth voice said. "What the hell is going on!?" Cersei hissed. "Do you have any idea what you've put me through? Were my instructions not clear enough for that thick skull of yours?" "We weren't going to hurt the boy," the voice said stubbornly. "And they wouldn't come out of the tree. What else could we do?" Cersei pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh, I don't know, Ramsay, maybe wait till they came down in the first place and then grab her? Ugh!" She kicked a rock with her boot. "We are going to talk about this later. What are you fools doing now?" "We're in the woods chasing the little bitch," Ramsay answered. "We'll find her." "You better," Cersei growled. She snapped her phone shut and headed back to find Jaime. As she neared his car she saw another cruiser pull up, followed by a truck. _Oh no… _she thought as she saw the driver.

Brienne jumped out of the cruiser and was joined by the Hunter. Sansa was with them, looking nervously around at the commotion. She worked her way through the cars to Jaime. "I've brought the Hunter. Sansa insisted on coming too." "Why are they here?" Jaime asked in surprise. "Sheriff," Brienne said, in a voice that meant business, "The Hunter knows these woods like the back of his hand. You know he does. He could help us find Arya." Jaime hesitated, then sighed, nodding. "Alright." He let Brienne lead him over to where the Hunter and Sansa were waiting. "Thanks for coming…Sandor," Jaime said, extending a hand. The Hunter regarded him for a moment, then shook his hand. "Where's the tree house?" he rasped. Jaime cocked his head in the direction. "This way. I'll take you." He glanced at the petite red-head standing nearby. "Sansa…we'll find her, don't worry. In the mean-time, why don't you wait in one of the cruisers? Or I could ask the mayor if you can go in her house?" "Oh...that's alright, thank you, Sheriff. I'll sit in Sandor's truck," Sansa answered, polite as always, even though Jaime could see she was really frightened for Arya. "Suit yourself," he said kindly, noting how the Hunter's mouth twitched at Sansa's answer. The big man handed the girl his keys, and she walked away.

"Lead the way, Sheriff," the Hunter rasped. "Right." The three took the path by the mayor's house, pulling out flashlights. They reached the burned tree, where a small group of firefighters were milling about. "Terrific," Sandor growled. "They've probably messed up the footprints." He glanced at the tree, a strange expression his face. "Nathan said this is where he and Arya separated," Jaime explained, leading them around the back of the tree. Shining a light at the ground, you could clearly see where a scuffle had taken place. Sandor knelt to the ground, studying it, brow furrowed. Another cop walked up to them. "Bronn, any news?" Jaime asked him. "Nah. It's pitch black out there. We combed the area but there's no sign of her," Bronn answered, snapping his gum. "We should probably wait till it's light out." "Bugger that. I can see just fine," Sandor growled at him. He bent over something. "Blood," he announced, pointing at a dark red streak in the dirt. "Probably from when Nathan stabbed one of the men," Jaime said. Bronn knelt down and scooped the dirt in a bag for evidence.

Sandor continued to scan the ground till he reached some bushes. "That's the direction Nathan said she ran off to," Jaime told him. Sandor nodded. "I can see her footprints." He turned to look at the cops standing behind him. "I'm going to look for her. Come or stay, doesn't matter to me." "I'll come with you," Jaime said. "If those men are still out there, we might run into them. You could use back-up." He paused. "I'll get you a gun..." "I have one," Sandor snarled, lifting up his coat, where a revolver was tucked away in a holster. "Always keep it in my truck." Jaime nodded. "Alright. Here's a walkie-talkie in case we get separated." Sandor accepted the device and stuck it in his back pocket, then turned to Brienne. "Tell Sansa to drive to my place and send Wolf out." Brienne looked surprise, but nodded. "Ok." The two men set off into the trees, and Brienne walked back up the path.

She reached the Hunter's truck and knocked on the door. Sansa opened it. "Sandor said he wants you to drive to his place and send Wolf out. That's his dog, right?" Sansa nodded, her eyes lighting up. "I know what he wants me to do. He said he might send me when we were driving over." Brienne nodded, still amazed by the strange relationship between the Hunter and this young girl. "Take this walkie-talkie and tell me when you get there," she instructed. "Be careful." She paused. "How much did you have to drink tonight?" Sansa looked at her in surprise. "Only a couple drinks. I feel fine, Brienne, really, I do." She seemed embarrassed, but Brienne could tell she was being truthful. "Ok, then. When you get to his house, stay there. I'll radio you when we find Arya." She shut the truck door, and Sansa started the engine and drove away.

Arya had been running non-stop. The men had been chasing her through the thick forest ever since she escaped the tree house. She hoped Nathan was ok. A branch tore at her clothes, and as she twisted, another one scraped her face. She nearly fell_. I must keep going, or they'll catch me._ She could hear the men faintly behind her, calling out to her.

Had Nathan been right? She wondered as she pushed through the darkness. Had his mother sent these men to do something to her? But why would she risk her own son's life? The unanswered questions swirled in her mind, mixing with exhaustion as her muscles began to cry out for relief.

She ran longer, losing track of time and how far into the woods she had run. She could no longer hear her pursuers, and slowed to a walk, trying to catch her breath. Her legs were burning, and she felt something sticky on her cheek where the branch had cut her earlier.

Arya found a rock and sat down, gazing about her. The woods were black, the shapes of the trees making faint outlines. She had no idea where she was, or how to get back to town. Surely Nathan had contacted the police by now. All she had to do was stay put, and wait for someone to find her. But she was so thirsty! "Maybe there's a stream nearby," she muttered, pushing up from the rock and trudging wearily through some bushes.

A faint howling echoed through the trees. Arya paused. Wolves? They sounded pretty far away, but still, she decided she needed to stay be quieter. She crept along, hoping her previous movements wouldn't attract attention.

Her next step suddenly found no ground beneath it and she stumbled, rolling down a steep hill, knocking into bushes as she went. Her hands went out, trying to grab something or stop herself, but she landed on the ground with a thud, her back hitting some rocks. "Owww…" she groaned, rubbing her arm and trying to get up. But something was wrong with her ankle, and she stumbled and fell to her knees. "Crap," she muttered. "Way to go, Arya." She felt for her hurt ankle, trying to see if it was broken.

A twig snapped nearby, and Arya froze, turning her head in its direction. A deep but soft growl reached her ears, and suddenly Arya couldn't breath.

Sansa drove quickly to Sandor's house. Luckily she had paid attention to which path to take from town last time, or she would have been lost for sure. She tried to keep her hands from shaking she drove through the woods. She felt a little bad lying to Brienne about the drinks; Sansa knew she had had more than "a couple". But she really didn't feel the effects anymore, and this was important. _Sandor will find her_, she told herself confidently. _And Wolf_. On the seat next to her was one of Arya's jackets. Sandor had told her to bring it before they left the hotel, telling her of his plan as they followed Brienne's cruiser to the mayor's house.

She pulled up to Sandor's house, the clearing dark except for the truck's headlights. Jumping out of the cab, she glanced around. "Wolf?" she called. The large, shaggy dog appeared before her, tail wagging. Sansa patted the thick fur, then held out the jacket. Wolf buried her nose in it. "This is Arya's, my friend. I need you to find her. Sandor needs your help," Sansa whispered to the dog. "Please, Wolf." The dog lifted her head, licked Sansa face, then stepped back and howled loudly. Sansa covered her ears. The dog snuffled Arya's jacket again, the turned and darted off into the trees. Sansa rose to her feet, clutching the jacket, and sending up a prayer.

Arya crawled backwards away from the sound, her back hitting a tree. The growling grew, and the bushes in front of her began to shift, the branches snapping. She held her breath, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her ankle was really beginning to hurt, and Arya wasn't sure if she would be able to run.

A large, dark shape crept out of the bushes, it's eyes glowing as it fixed it's stare on Arya. A growl vibrated from the creature's throat, and lips pulled back over terrible fangs. Arya shrank back, her eyes wide.

A bear. The beast was huge, with dark, shaggy hair. Arya could see the claws dig into the ground as the animal leered at her, trying to decide how best to approach its prey. _Please go away._ Arya held perfectly still. She knew the bear had seen her, and could obviously smell her, but some crazy part of her tired brain hoped that if she didn't move, the beast would lose interest. The bear, however, was hungry, and seemed to feed off of Arya's fear. It began to advance slowly, when another large shape darted out from the bushes to Arya's left and took a stance in front of the girl, teeth bared and grey fur bristled.

Arya stared in disbelief. A wolf? Perhaps it wanted her for a meal, too. Enough to fight a bear off for.

The moon finally broke through some trees, and its light shone off the two animals glaring at each other, each growling and showing their massive teeth. The bear suddenly lunged, roaring, but the wolf was quick, and darted out of the way, only to swing back around and dig its fangs into the bear's side. The bear roared in anger and slashed at the wolf. They began to circle each other, their growls making Arya's blood run cold and sending goose bumps up her skin. The wolf lunged forward this time, jumping on the bear's back and tearing into its flesh. The bear reared onto its hind legs, trying to shake the other animal loose, its paws flying madly. The wolf held on, biting and snarling, ripping through the bear's thick skin and fur. Arya realized that the wolf was almost as big as the bear, and seemed to have a strategy in its attacks.

The wolf leaped off the bear's back, pushed itself off the ground, and flew back to sink its teeth into the bear's chest. Roaring, the bear finally slung the wolf in the neck with one of its paws, sending the wolf skidding across the ground. The bear then rushed towards its enemy, but the wolf proved to be too agile and dodged the attack, sinking its fangs into the neck of the bear.

With a sickening snarl, the bear stumbled, shaking its head, and, once free of the wolf, turned and galloped off into the woods, defeated.

Arya had sat transfixed, too afraid to move, but even though the bear was gone, she was still in danger. The wolf slowly crept towards her until its face was level with hers, and Arya thought her heart would stop. The animal sniffed at her, shoved its nose into her coat, and then lay down in front of her, its tail wagging.

Arya's mouth dropped open, confused. "Aren't you going to eat me?" she asked the wolf. It simply cocked its head, then began licking its fur, cleaning off the blood and remains from the fight. The moon found a larger opening in the trees, and Arya suddenly recognized her savior. "You're the Hunter's dog," she whispered. "Wolf." In response, the animal raised her head to meet Arya's gaze, and shuffled closer, placing her head on the girl's knee. Arya patted the furry head. "What are you doing out here?" Could they be close to the Hunter's place? If so, Arya needed to find it. She needed to get out of these woods.

But she was so tired. And now that danger had vanished and she was finally sitting down, Arya didn't have the strength to get up and move again. She was also cold, but exhaustion was greater, and slowly she began to succumb to the relief her burning eyelids craved. Wolf snuggled up to her, and Arya leaned in to the thick fur, glad for the warmth. Gradually her eyes closed, and she fell into a deep, groggy sleep.

Jaime and the Hunter delved deeper and deeper into the woods. Sandor's steel grey eyes took in every inch they covered, fingering broken branches, disturbed bushes, turned over rocks, and footprints, sometimes muttering to himself. Jaime had no idea where they were going, but he followed the large man, who seemed to be confident enough in his skills to find the girl. Occasionally Jaime called out Arya's name, hoping she would respond, but they heard no answer. He grimaced and pulled his large coat closer. The temperature had dropped, and he could see his breath. He began to worry that Arya might freeze if they didn't find her soon. The Hunter trudged on, not seeming to mind the cold.

They had been trekking for over an hour, not saying much, and Jaime was beginning to feel antsy. He didn't like long silences, and he was used to talking with people he worked with. "So…" he started, moving so that he was walking alongside Sandor. The man barely glanced at him. "What's up with you and Sansa?" The Hunter stopped and turned to look at him, his expression barely readable in the dark. "Don't see how it's any of your business, Sheriff," he answered gruffly, and walked forward again. "It's just a question," Jaime mumbled. A few minutes passed and he tried again. "She's a pretty girl." He couldn't be sure, but in the dim light from his flashlight he thought he saw Sandor roll his eyes, but make no answer. Jaime smirked a little. "I guess she sees you as some sort of hero, after you saved her and all." "I'm no hero," the Hunter rasped, pausing slightly to look at something on the ground. "Maybe not. But to her, you are. I saw the way she was looking at you earlier." Jaime knew he shouldn't prod the big man, but he couldn't help it. Teasing was in his nature. "Whatever," Sandor snorted and continued walking, bearing to the left a little.

"So do you like her?" Jaime asked nonchalantly. The Hunter stopped again and turned to him, lifting the flashlight so it shined in the other man's face. "What's your game Sheriff?" he growled. "It's called conversation, Sandor. It's not a game." Jaime held up his hands innocently. "I was just wondering, since you two seem to be hanging out quite a bit. Just some man to man talk, that's all." The Hunter snorted again. "Really? You sound more like gossiping girl." It was Jaime's turn to roll his eyes. "You're so grumpy. Geez, are you like this around Sansa?" "No," Sandor replied abruptly. "It's also 3 in the morning, I've been up all day and night, and I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not the most sociable person around," he spat. "Hey, I'm tired too. Just thought if we talked, it might help," Jaime shrugged. The Hunter sighed. They began to walk again.

After a few moments Jaime spoke again. "You going to ask her out?" Sandor sighed again. "Don't need to." Jaime raised his eyebrows. "What if someone else does?" "Bugger that. She's not interested in anyone." Well that was an interesting piece of information. "How do you know that?" "She told me." Jaime thought for a minute. "But you think she's interested in you?" The Hunter gave him a sidelong glance and smirked. "If I didn't just spend several hours with her, I wouldn't think so. I'm not exactly someone a girl like her should want, or need, to be around." Jaime nodded. "Yet you'll hang out with her anyways," he stated. Sandor smirked again, the beam from his flashlight giving his scars a wicked look. "I'm not a saint, Sheriff. You know that."

Jaime frowned. "If you plan on hurting her…" "Damn it, Sheriff, why would I do that?" Sandor snapped. "I have no intention of hurting her. Just shut up." Jaime decided not to respond, but he allowed himself a small smile.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Arya faded in and out of sleep, feeling like she was floating. Her head felt heavy, and her eyelids refused to open. Sleep took her on a rollercoaster, and at one point she thought she heard voices. "We can't just leave her here," one voice whispered. It sounded like a boy. "Her ankle is hurt." "She'll tell about us," the other voice hissed. This one sounded like a girl. "I have to at least wrap her ankle," the boy insisted. Arya faded into black, and had a dream she was running with a pack of wolves, her hair long and flowing, instead of its short bob, and the sun was shining.

A sharp pain shot through her leg, and she jumped, pulling out of the dream. "I know it hurts," the boy said to her softly. "But this will make it feel better." Through the haze she thought she saw two figures bent over her. Wolf was still snuggled up to her. A strange, herbal scent filled her nose, and her head dropped back, welcoming sleep.

Arya didn't wake again until Wolf was licking her face. With a groan, she opened her eyes and rubbed them. The forest was foggy and grey; the sun barely risen. She must have slid to the ground while she slept, and she grabbed the tree and Wolf, pulling herself into a sitting position.

In spite on the dog's body heat, Arya felt cold, shaky, and strangely nauseous. Her head pounded with grogginess, and she blinked, trying to get her bearings. Wolf licked her face again, then her ears went alert and she trotted off through the bushes. "Hey!" Arya cried. "Come back!" The dog did not return, and Arya felt more alone than ever as another wave of exhaustion hit her.

Jaime and Sandor had followed Arya's broken trail so deep into the woods Jaime wasn't sure how they would get back out. "How did she get this far?" he asked wearily. Sandor didn't respond, looking very tired himself. Suddenly he froze and whipped his head around. "What is it?" Jaime asked. The Hunter cocked his head. "Hear that?" Jaime listened. All he heard was the normal sounds of the forest awakening. The far in the distance, a dog barked. "That's Wolf," Sandor said, and he hurried off in the direction of the sound, Jaime close behind him.

The dog barked again, and the two men crashed through underbrush, filled with renewed energy. "Wolf!" Sandor shouted. The large dog burst into their path and ran up to the Hunter, happy to see her master. The she trotted ahead of them a few feet, barking and looking towards the left, then back at them. "Lead us," Sandor told her, and the two men followed Wolf until they reached a small hill. At the bottom, leaning against a tree, was a girl curled up.

"Arya!" Jaime called. Sandor slid carefully down the hill with Wolf and knelt next to the girl. "She's ok," he said gruffly. "Just exhausted." He scooped the girl up in his arms and slung her over his shoulder. Arya groaned and squirmed a little.

Sandor climbed back up the hill, and Jaime reached for his radio. "This is Sheriff Jaime. We found her. Heading back to the mayor's house." After a moment the radio crackled with confirmation by other officers, and they began to head back.

Sansa had gone inside Sandor's house after Wolf left to wait for news from Brienne. The cabin-like house was small but cozy, and Sansa curled up on a large, over-stuffed couch, the walkie-talkie close at hand. As the hours dragged by, however, her head began to nod, and she lay down, pulling a large afghan blanket over her. Sleep came, and Sansa dreamed she was in the woods with Arya, and they were running with wolves.

Early morning light streamed through a window, and the radio crackled. "Sansa? This is Brienne." The girl stirred, confused, then shot up, grabbing the radio. "I'm here!" "They found her!" Brienne sounded cheerful but tired. "They are bringing her back to the mayor's house, and from there we'll have her checked out." Sansa could barely contain her relief. "I'm on my way." She jumped off the couch, pulling her boots back on, and hurried out the door, climbing into the Hunter's truck.

The drive back to the mayor's house seemed to take forever, and Sansa wiped tears of joy off her face. She couldn't let Arya see her cry; she'd call her a wuss. At the thought, Sansa couldn't help but laugh. "Oh Arya, I'm glad you're ok."

She finally pulled down the street to the mayor's house and saw that the ambulance and police cars were still there. She parked and hurried over to find Brienne. She located the tall woman easily. "They aren't back yet, but they're close. Jaime just radioed me," Brienne told her. Sansa nodded, rubbing her arms. The morning air was still cool, and Sansa was glad she had decided to wear her heavy coat. "Here, have some coffee," Brienne said, handing her a steaming mug. It was black, but hot, and Sansa sipped at it, enjoying the warmth spread through her. She looked over at the house and saw the mayor standing on the porch steps, staring off into the woods. She didn't look like she had got much sleep either.

A boy opened the front door and darted around the woman, heading for Brienne and Sansa. "Any news?" he asked hopefully. He was wearing a hoodie and his brown hair was stuck up in all directions. Sansa had a motherly urge to comb it with her fingers. "They found Arya," Brienne told him. "The Sheriff said she's ok, just cold and exhausted. They should be back in the next hour or so. Turns out Arya made a sort of loop, and in the daylight the Hunter was able to find a quicker route back here." The boy sighed, looking relieved, a small smile breaking over his face. Sansa felt a surge of pride for Sandor. "I knew he'd find her," she said quietly.

"What about those men?" Nathan asked Brienne. "Bronn and a couple others searched the woods for them, but they seem to have vanished. We will have to wait and see what we can collect from the scene," Brienne answered, sipping her coffee.

The leaned against the cruiser for a long time, and Sansa could barely stand the anticipation. Brienne's radio crackled and Jaime's voice came through. "Coming up to the path. Have the nurse ready." "I'm on it," Brienne answered, and hurried over to the ambulance. Sansa set her cup down and followed her, since the emergency vehicle was near the side of the house. A few cops ran down the path, and everyone was speaking into their radios. She twisted her fingers nervously as a nurse and another man opened the back of the ambulance.

Bronn appeared through the trees, followed by Jaime, then the Hunter, who was now carrying Sansa in his arms instead of slung over his shoulder. He marched up to the ambulance and handed her off to the nurse. "Arya!" Sansa choked, reaching for the girl's hand. Arya lifted her head and looked around at her with half-open eyes. "Hey, Sansa," she croaked. "Long time no see." Sansa giggled, blinking back tears. "We'll take her to the hospital," the nurse decided. She patted Sansa's arm as they began loading the younger girl into the back. "She'll be ok, honey." Sansa nodded, and was about to ask if she could ride with Arya when she realized she hadn't said anything to Sandor.

She turned, but he wasn't standing behind her anymore. She looked wildly for his tall form and saw him walking towards his truck, Wolf loping along beside him. "Wait!" she cried, and ran after him. Sandor heard her and stopped, waiting for her to catch up. "Thank you," Sansa told him, and wrapped her arms around his torso. The Hunter seemed surprised, but he chuckled and patted her on the back. "You're welcome, Little Bird," he spoke huskily into her hair. She pulled away slightly, still gripping his coat. "Are you ok?" she asked softly. He ran a hand over his face. "Nothing some sleep won't fix." Sansa smiled. "I guess I'll see you later then." She reluctantly let go, wrapping her arms around herself. The Hunter nodded and gave her small smirk. "Ok." Wolf hopped into the cabin as he opened the door, and Sansa stood back and watched him drive away. With a sigh, she headed back to the ambulance.

Cersei had not slept the entire night, waiting anxiously for news from both the cops and Ramsay. He called her around 3 am to tell her they couldn't find Arya, and the cops were in pursuit. They decided together it would be best to try later. Cersei was furious though, and she did not intend to let this mess go unpunished. Now, not had Arya escaped, but Nathan believed she had something to do with it. And Cersei did not know how to handle this situation.

Once the Hunter and Jaime returned with Arya, Cersei decided to go about her morning as usual. Nathan had asked Jaime for a ride to the hospital so he could see Arya. "I need to make sure she's ok!" he explained. Cersei decided not to hold him back, but she was worried of what Nathan might tell Jaime while they were in the car together.

After dressing meticulously, and drinking a large cup of coffee, Cersei drove to the hospital. She had another matter to take care of. The little exchange between Sansa and the Hunter had not gone unnoticed, and she was determined to keep this nonsense from growing. Their relationship had something to do with the curse, of that Cersei was certain, and she would not allow it to continue.

She pulled into the hospital parking lot and plastered a fake but cordial smile on her face, determined to look the part of a concerned mayor visiting the lost little girl. She was allowed admittance quickly, and a nurse led her to the room. Arya was lying on a bed covered by crisp white sheets. A bandage was on her face, and she was asleep. Sansa and Nathan were sitting in chairs near the bed, talking quietly.

Cersei pushed the door opened. "How is she doing?" she asked, startling both of the children. Nathan gave her a surprised look, which quickly turned suspicious. Sansa looked surprised as well, but her good manners stepped in, as always. "The doctor said she'd be ok. She just needs a lot of sleep and nourishment. Her ankle is sprained, but it should heal soon." Cersei smiled, hoping it didn't look as forced as she felt. "That's good to hear. I was so shocked to find out what happened. I'm glad Nathan is alright." She placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, and he stiffened. Sansa didn't seem to notice. "I can't believe it either. Who would want to hurt kids?" She shook her head. "There's some really messed up people in this town. I hope the Sheriff finds them." "Indeed. I'm sure we'll all feel much safer knowing men like that are behind bars," Cersei agreed. She hesitated, then said, "Sansa, could I speak to you out in the hallway for a minute, please?" The redhead blinked. "Oh...ok. Sure" Nathan looked a little alarmed by this, but he said nothing, and scooted his chair closer to the bed.

Cersei and Sansa left the room. "Let's go in here," Cersei suggested, gesturing to a small waiting room. Sansa followed her, clearly confused, but she was too polite to demand an explanation. That was one of the many things Cersei detested about her.

Once they entered the waiting room, Cersei closed the door, and casually put her hands in her coat pockets. Sansa faced her and did the same, waiting. "Sansa, I want to talk to you about this…friendship you've formed with the Hunter," she began. Sansa's eyebrows rose in surprise, then furrowed slightly. "Why?" she asked. Cersei sighed. "Sansa, it is not a good idea for you to be associated with him. I know he saved you from being attacked a while back, but that doesn't erase the fact that he is not the sort of company a girl like you should keep." Sansa frowned, but said nothing. "I'm sure you know of his record. That man has been in and out of the town prison many times. He's a drunk, and gets into fights. You saw what he did to your attackers. He could have killed them!" "But he didn't," Sansa interjected. Cersei rolled her eyes. "The point is, he's a bad influence, Sansa. There's no telling what he might do once he's angry enough."

Sansa seemed to be digesting this information before replying, "I know what he's done in the past. But he hasn't done anything in ages, Madam Mayor. I think he's changed." A small smile formed around her lips. "He's been nothing but nice to me, even before he saved me. He came in the diner all the time. He's never tried to hurt me, and I don't think he will." Cersei snorted at this. "Then you're as naïve as I thought, Sansa." She took a few steps forward. "Men like him just want one thing: to get in your pants. He's going to reel you in, pretend to care about you, then toss you aside once he's had his fill. It's all a game to him." Sansa looked angry. "You're wrong," she hissed. "Sandor wouldn't do that." Cersei was beginning to get irritated. "Sansa, I'm trying to help you. Part of my responsibility as mayor is to ensure the safety of everyone in this town. But I'm also speaking woman to woman. I highly suggest you stop any association with the Hunter. It will only lead to heart break for you, child." For a moment Cersei thought her words had finally worked, but Sansa's face suddenly hardened, and she lifted her chin defiantly. "I don't believe you, mayor or not. Thanks for your concern, but I can take care of myself." With that, she strode around Cersei to the door and left.

Cersei stared after her in shock, clenching her fists as anger set in. "Fine," she spoke quietly to the empty room. "If that's the way you want it, so be it." She opened the door and walked back to Arya's room. "Come on, Nathan, I'm taking you to school," she said. Nathan started to protest but stopped when he saw his mother's face. "Bye, Sansa," he said. "I'll be back later." "Bye, Nathan," Sansa replied, not looking at the mayor. Mother and son left the building and began driving to the school in silence.

"What did you talk to Sansa about?" Nathan asked quietly. Cersei gripped the steering wheel. Her patience was wearing thin. "I don't think it's any of your business, Nathan." "Why? Are you going to hurt her now too?" Cersei pulled the car over and turned to glare at her son. "I had nothing to do with those men, Nathan! Get it through your head. I'm not out to get either of those girls, understand?" She took a deep breath. "It hurts me, Nathan, that you would think this of me. I'm your mother, and I love you. But I cannot allow you to continue thinking this lie!" Nathan glared back at her. "You're not my real mother. I'm adopted, remember?" He opened the car door and got out, slamming it. Cersei gaped after him. How had things spiraled so out of control?


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Cersei sat in her office, trying to focus on the paperwork in front of her, but her thoughts were miles away. She hated losing control of a situation, and ever since Nathan had decided to believe in magic and the curse, her perfect world was slowly crumbling. She gritted her teeth. This was all Mr. Steel's fault. If he hadn't created a way for the curse to be broken, this would never have happened.

The day slipped by, and Cersei decided it was time to gather herself together and continue with her plans. She left the office and settled into her sleek car, driving through town and taking a path into the woods. She hadn't been able to convince Sansa that she was playing a dangerous game, but maybe she could twist the Hunter into her favor. She knew Sandor Clegane from Westeros, but a part of her wondered if he had changed too much in this world.

The path eventually eased into a clearing, and Cersei saw the faded red truck parked near a cabin-style house. She had never been to the Hunter's house before, but it was clearly his place. Secluded, and screaming roughness. She parked her car and began picking her way across the yard to the house, her heels getting digging into the dirt.

Wolf was sprawled out on the front porch, and she lifted her head and growled slightly when Cersei walked up the steps, but didn't approach her. The dog must have been tired still from a night in the woods.

Cersei knocked on the rough wooden door and waited. She had worn a business skirt and coat, since it was cool out, but now she unbuttoned the coat and pulled her lacey blouse down, baring her cleavage more. Cersei knew she was beautiful, and she was sure the Hunter would react just like any other man. And she was prepared to do anything to coerce him.

No one came to the door, so she knocked again, a little louder. "Come on," she muttered. The doorknob finally turned, and Sandor appeared in the doorway. He was wearing a grey long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans, and his hair was messy but parted over to cover his scars, as usual. He regarded her with a raised eyebrow, clearly not expecting to see her. "Mayor," he said roughly, his voice like scraping metal. Cersei offered him a smile. "Good afternoon, Sandor. I trust you've rested well after such a long night." Even in her heels, the Hunter towered over her, large and muscular, his chest straining slightly against his shirt. "You woke me up, actually," he replied bluntly, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. "What do you want?" Cersei swallowed, fighting to keep her smile on. She would not let him intimidate her.

"I apologize for disturbing you, Sandor," she said sweetly, "but there is a matter of some importance which I need to discuss with you." He arched an eyebrow at her. "Like what?" _Charming, to the last._ Cersei paused to gather her thoughts. "It's about this…friendship you've developed with Sansa." She waited to say more, trying to gauge his reaction. The Hunter frowned. "Not you too?" he growled. "Alright, what about it?" Cersei wondered who else had said something, but she pressed on. "I think it's very…unhealthy, for a girl like Sansa, especially one her age, to be involved with someone of your…reputation." She stepped forward a bit, making sure she pushed her chest out a little. "Sansa is a bright, aspiring young woman, and she has much to experience about the world, especially how a man thinks." She paused to allow her words to sink in. "I'm prepared to offer you anything, if you will stay away from her, and let her forget these…delusions she has about you and her." She stepped closer. Sandor hadn't moved from his spot, his face twitched. "Think about, Sandor. Anything you want. I can make it happen," Cersei told him, letting her voice become sultrier.

Sandor's grey eyes looked her up and down. "Anything I want, huh? That's quite an offer, mayor," he rasped, a smirk spreading over his face. Cersei held her breath, waiting for him to take the bait. "It is, Sandor…money is no problem…" she trailed off, resting a well-manicured hand on his chest. "Or anything else." She smiled at him again. The Hunter leaned forward suddenly and grabbed her wrist. "Too bad for you, mayor," he snarled, "_Sansa_ is the only thing I want." He pushed her away and rose to his full height. "Now get off my property," he leered at her, growling and practically baring his teeth. Cersei saw red and her eyes narrowed. "You'll regret this, Sandor," she spat, and stomped down the stairs towards her car.

"Oh, and Mayor," Sandor called. "If you even think about butting your head in my business again, I'm sure the Sheriff would be very interested to know that his girlfriend exhibits very whore-like behavior." He laughed at her dumb-founded expression. Cersei had never driven away from something so fast in her life.

Sansa had raced out of Arya's room after Cersei and Nathan left. She had completely forgotten about diner! She hurried to the front desk, asking to use the phone, and quickly dialed the diner's number. "Hello? Catelyn? I am so sorry I'm not there, a bunch of stuff happened to Arya last night and…" "It's ok, Sansa. Officer Brienne already called and told me what happened. I've decided to close the diner for the day; we can afford it. I was going to stop by the hospital soon, do you need anything?" Sansa smiled. Good old Catelyn. "Some food would be nice. Hospital meals aren't that…great." Her boss laughed. "No problem, honey. I'll be there soon."

Catelyn had shown up bearing a brown paper bag full of bagels and fruit and a holder carrying two steaming cups of coffee. She and Sansa ate in the cafeteria, then went back to Arya's room. The younger girl was finally awake. "Ugh, I wanna get out of here," she whined. "I'm not an invalid." "Arya, you can't leave until the doctor says so," Sansa told her. "Well where is he?" she asked, running a hand through her short brown hair. "I've got to a bone to pick with...someone." Sansa and Catelyn exchanged glances. "If you're talking about those men, the police are on the case," Sansa informed her. Arya only muttered something under her breath.

Catelyn offered to take Sansa back home so she could shower and change. The older woman left the room, but before Sansa could follow Arya spoke. "Sansa?" "Yea?" "…Did the Hunter really find me in the woods?" Sansa shut the door again and walked over to the bed. "Yes. He did. It was also his idea to send Wolf out." Arya seemed to chew this over. "Why did he do it?" Sansa blushed. "Well…I asked him to. I think he did it as a favor to me." Arya sighed. "Dang…he's got it bad if he was willing to do that. He and I are enemies." "Arya, you're not enemies," Sansa protested. "Well…maybe we have truce right now," Arya relented. Sansa rolled her eyes. "ok. Sure Arya. I'll see you later."

After Sansa left, Arya hopped out the bed and stretched, rotating her ankle. It felt much better. She vaguely remembered the doctor wondering how this green paste ended up on her foot, and Arya slowly started to recall the voices she had heard in the forest. Those people had put something on her to make her ankle feel better. But why hadn't they carried her back to town? Arya decided she would get to the bottom of that, but first things first.

She pulled on the clothes Catelyn had left on the chair, and tiptoed to the door and peered out. No one was in the hallway, so Arya slipped out quietly and inched down the corridor. _Be like a ninja_, she thought. She needed to find an exit door besides the main entrance to make her escape. She knew that Sansa and the doctor would be pissed once they discovered her absence, but busting out of the hospital was something that needed to be done.

As Arya turned a corner, she glanced into a hospital room and saw a young man lying on the bed, still as a stone. He had a monitor hooked up to him, regulating his heart and breathing. Curious, Arya opened his door and peeked in, then shut it behind her. She walked up to the bed for a better look. He had very dark, almost black, curly hair, and slight stubble on his cheeks and chin. He seemed…familiar, for some reason, but Arya couldn't put her finger on it. She noticed a chair near his bed and sat down, escape temporarily out of her mind. A vase of flowers stood on his bedside table, and Arya wondered who brought them.

She leaned forward, studying the young man's features. He looked a little older than Sansa. "Are you asleep?" Arya asked him. Surely he would have heard her in the room by now. The young man didn't stir; not even an eyelid twitched.

The door suddenly opened. "Arya!" the nurse exclaimed. "What are you doing?" "I was bored," Arya fabricated quickly, "I was tired of being stuck in that room." The nurse sighed and shook her head, but smiled. "What's wrong with him?" Arya asked. The nurse walked over. "He's in a coma. Has been for a long time." "Oh." Arya turned back to the young man. "What's his name?" "We don't know," the nurse said sadly. "We've decided to call him 'Jon'. We won't know more until he wakes up. No one has come to claim him, and there was nothing on his person to identify him." Arya glanced at the nurse. "How long has he been here?" she tested. The nurse's eyebrows furrowed. "Ummm…a long time, I guess. As long as I've been here." Arya nodded. _The curse… _"Could I…stay in here a while?" she asked. The nurse hesitated, then shrugged. "Sure, honey. I think it would be good if someone else visited with him too." Satisfied, Arya got comfy in the chair. As the nurse started to leave, she asked, "What was your name?" The young woman smiled. "Jeyne. You can call me Jeyne."

She left. Arya contemplated the young man lying in the bed before her. "So, Jon," she said. "I'm Arya, and I'm pretty much the coolest person you'll ever meet."

Cersei had locked herself away in her office again, fuming and creating a plan. Neither of her conversations with the Hunter and Sansa had worked, so she decided to go a step further. In spite of the Hunter's threat, Cersei didn't think Jaime would believe his word over hers, so she wasn't very worried about that.

The door to her office opened, and Ramsay sauntered in, followed by a limping Theon. "Sit," Cersei commanded. They did. She leaned forward on her desk, hands folded. "You failed miserably last night in your attempts to capture the girl. But now you have a chance to redeem yourselves." Ramsay's snake eyes glittered at her, and he casually fiddled with a pocketknife. "What would you like, Mayor?" he asked. Theon shifted in his chair. "You need to get a hold of Sansa. She's the tall girl who works in the diner." Ramsay raised an eyebrow. "The red-head?" Cersei nodded. "Yes. She…has not complied with my requests to stay away from somebody, for her own good, and now she must face the consequences."

Arya ran down the sidewalk. After talking to Jon for a bit, she continued her quest to sneak out of the hospital, and found it surprisingly unchallenging. She wondered if Nurse Jeyne had even noticed she was missing yet.

She stopped in front of Mr. Steel's shop. Nathan was still in school, so he was the only other person she could go to right now. The little bell tinkled as she walked in.

Mr. Steel was behind the counter, polishing something. "Ah, Arya. Good to see you're safe and sound," he greeted. The girl's eyes narrowed. "How do you know what happened?" "It's a small town. News travels fast. And I keep my ears open. Now what can I do for you?" Arya placed her hands on the counter. "I need to know more about this curse. Those men that attacked us…there had to be a reason. They were prepared. Someone doesn't want us spreading the truth." She took a deep breath. "Nathan thinks it's his mom. Mayor Cersei." Mr. Steel steepled his fingers and studied her. "And what do you think?" "Well, she threatened Nathan that something could happen to me if we kept hanging out. We were together at the festival, and she saw us. Then those men attacked the tree house. Kind of suspicious." Mr. Steel thought for a moment. "Don't you think you should tell the police about this instead of me?" Arya snorted. "Yea right. Like they would believe kids over adults. Besides, Cersei is dating the sheriff. She's probably got him wrapped around her finger."

Mr. Steel nodded. "Very smart of you, girl. Keep your eyes and ears open. My guess is that Cersei will lay low for a while with her plans. In the mean time, the curse has begun to weaken, as you can see by the library clock moving." Arya gaped. "That…that's because the curse has weakened? I thought someone had just fixed it." Mr. Steel shook his head. "No. It is because of you and Nathan. Cersei was quite upset by it. Time has stood still here, and the clock was a symbol of that. But now, the hands move. A bit of the curse had begun to crack. But there's a long ways to go." Arya ran a hand through her hair, thinking. "Mr. Steel, do you know of anyone that lives in the woods? Besides the Hunter, I mean. When I was lost out there, I fell asleep, and I thought I heard voices. They were talking about me…and one of them put something on m ankle to help it." Mr. Steel smiled a little. "I can't give you much to go on, but if you're looking to break the curse some more, I would try to find those voices in the woods. They may be able to help you."

A/N: Oh, Cersei, you and your shenanigans. Also, in case anyone was wondering, I always picture Sandor like he is the show. I think Rory McCann does an excellent job portraying him :)


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Another fantastically long chapter! Some new pov's too! Enjoy :)

Chapter 23

Nathan burst out of the school building, intent on going to see if Arya was still in the hospital, when a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him around the corner. "What the…" he trailed off when he saw Arya smirking at him. "Arya! You got released?" he asked excitedly. She shook her head. "Nope, I broke out." His mouth fell open, then he laughed. "Oh man, you've probably given Nurse Jeyne a heart attack!" "They'll get over it," Arya said flippantly. "I left a note. Besides, we have important things to do. Let's ditch your books and I'll explain."

The children hurried back to Nathan's house where, thankfully, Cersei was not lying in wait. Nathan noticed Arya was carrying a backpack. "What's in there?" he asked, as he unlocked the front door. "Supplies," Arya replied. "Flashlights, a map of the island, a compass, some food and water." Nathan paused and looked at her. "Are we going some where?" "Yup! Into the woods. I've got a hunch we'll find something…or someone, to help weaken the curse." Nathan led the way upstairs to his room, where he put on some warmer clothes and filled his backpack with some of the supplies Arya brought. Then they went to the kitchen, where Nathan found some extra batteries and some more food. He wrote a quick note to his mom (no specifics, of course), and left it on the counter. "Ok, let's go." They left through the back door and headed down the path towards the remains of the tree house.

Arya explained how some people had found her in the woods when she was lost, and that one of them had put some kind of salve on her hurt ankle. "When I talked to Mr. Steel about it, he was cryptic as usual, but he said to investigate further. Maybe these people are others who are unaffected by the curse, like you are, Nathan." The boy thought about it. "It's a possibility, I guess," he said. "But how do you know where to find them?" They reached the woods behind the burned tree. "Well, it looks like the Hunter and the Sheriff left a bit of trail in their wake while searching for me," Arya said, gesturing towards the broken shrubs. "I have a knife, and we can mark our path on trees so we don't get lost again. I'm sure if we get back to the spot where I was found, we'll be able to find those people," she explained confidently. "Alright, it's worth a shot," Nathan nodded, and the two headed off into the forest.

Rickon sat in his dad's desk chair, bored. Davos had gone to the dock to talk to one of his employees, and Osha was upstairs making dinner. Rickon wanted to go outside and play, but he also didn't want to get in trouble for wandering off. Still, it was a nice day out; he wouldn't go far.

The boy slipped out the door and walked around the back of the white wood house they lived in. He loved being near the sea, and seeing all the boats, and hearing all the tales from the fishermen. Slowly he skirted around some of the other fishing buildings they lived around, all shops and supplies and such. Davos owned them all.

Rickon had decided that he was going to head to the little playground that was nearby when he heard some hushed voices around a corner. Curious, he remembered what Arya and Nathan had told him. "Magic is real," they had said. "There's a curse on the town, and we are trying to break it." They had also told him to keep his ears open. So that's what he decided to do.

Eager to be helpful, and feeling important, Rickon crept towards the corner and crouched behind a barrel and some rope, straining his ears. The conversation floated towards him.

"Don't know why she's obsessed with those two girls," one voice said. It had a dry, brittle quality to it. The faint smell of cigarette smoke drifted in the air. "Does it matter? She's given us a job to do. Shows she still trusts us," the other voice drawled. More smoke. "At least this one won't put up as much of a fight, when the time comes. She's prettier too." One of them laughed. "Do we have everything we need?" the first voice asked. "Yep, just about. We'll do it tonight." There was a pause. "What's the matter, stinky? Let's have some fun." They began to walk away, and the voices were fading. Rickon poked his head around the corner as they disappeared from view, only catching a glimpse of a leather jacket and a man with a limp.

Jaime rubbed his eyes tiredly. Barely any sleep was taking its toll on his body and his mood. Brienne looked just as exhausted as she began heating up another pot of coffee. "I wish they'd hurry up," Jaime mumbled, fiddling with a pen as he gazed over the papers on his desk for the thousandth time. They were the report and evidence on what had happened last night concerning Arya and Nathan. "I do too, but those things take time to develop," Brienne said with a sigh. "Too bad the process isn't as fast as on _CSI_," she tried to joke wearily. Jaime offered her a weak smile.

They had given the blood sample from the scene to the lab, a small building near the police station. Jaime wanted to keep looking for the men, but getting an analysis was important, and he decided to let his other officers get some sleep so that they would be at their best later. He and Brienne had taken turns on the small coat in the back office, but neither could catch much shut-eye. Too much was running through both of their minds.

Brienne sat down in a chair at her desk a couple feet away. "Lot's of weird stuff has been happening lately, don't you agree?" she said. Jaime nodded. "The clock in town starting to work, yet no one knows who fixed it. The Hunter and Sansa. These men that tried to burn to kids in a tree house." He shook his head. "When will it end?" A part of him was glad that there was finally something of interest happening in this town, but he wished it would happen when he at least got a decent night's rest. Plus, he hadn't heard anything from Cersei all day. He figured she would want to be the first to know anything, since her son had been involved, but she hadn't even sent him a text.

The station door opened, and a tall, tan woman walked in, her dark hair tumbling about her shoulders and a white lab coat around her shoulders. She lifted up a bag and a folder. "Got the results. Not sure if they'll help though. I ran the DNA through our system and found no matches." She placed the packet on Jaime's desk and perched on its edge.

Jaime thumbed through the folder's contents, scanning over what the woman had already confirmed. He sighed. "Do we have anything to go by?" he asked. "Well, there is one little thing. According to his blood readings, the man whose blood this belongs to has strong levels of nicotine in his system. He's a smoker." She pointed at a column on the page. "He also appeared to have been drinking, although the alcohol detection was very faint." Jaime nodded. "Well, it's better than nothing. Thank you, Arianne." The woman flashed him a smile, her already white teeth looking even brighter against her olive skin. "Any time Sheriff." Brienne, who had got up to get coffee, rolled her eyes at Jaime behind Arianne's back. He smothered a smile. "I'll let you know if we need you for anything else." "You do that," she answered, hopping off the desk and walking lightly out of the room.

"I think someone has a crush," Brienne teased, sitting down again. Jaime made a face at her, and they both laughed, anxious for something to relax them from the built-up tension over the last 24 hours.

"So where do we start?" Brienne asked after the laughter stopped. Jaime glanced over the results again, tapping his fingers on the desk. "I guess we should head to the bars and ask around. See if anyone heard anything. It's a long shot, but it's all we have for now."

Sandor opened his second beer and took a swig, settling on the porch bench. He hadn't been able to go back to sleep after Cersei's visit, so he had shuffled around his house and the storage unit, doing this and that until he finally gave up trying to stay busy and decided to have some drinks. Wolf came and lay down next to him, and he ran a hand through her thick fur absently.

The mayor's visit had been completely unexpected. As far as Sandor could remember, the blonde woman had never even spoken to him before. Then suddenly she showed up at his house, acting like she knew him, and offering him things in exchange for never seeing Sansa again. That bitch was weird, he decided. Why the hell would she care what he and Sansa did together? Sandor knew they had a bit of an age difference, but Sansa was an adult, wasn't she? She could make her own damn decisions. And if one of those decisions was to hang out with him, then he sure wasn't going to turn her away.

_Sansa_. His thoughts turned towards the pretty red-head, and a slight smile tugged at the edge of his scarred mouth. Sandor had never tried to have a relationship with a girl before; most of the women he ever showed interest in were for a one-night stand, or just to get drunk with. And those skanks were usually already wasted, since no one in their right, sober mind would show interest in him. It wasn't something he did often, but it did happen every once in a while. Not since he'd met Sansa, though.

Sandor always kept to himself. The only people he bothered giving the time of day was the butcher that he delivered the meat he hunted for, and the workers in the stores he bought supplies from. When he used to frequent the bars, he would either drink alone, play some cards or pool with men he would never talk to outside of the bar, or get in a fight with someone, just because his blood was hot. The latter happened quite often, and had landed him one too many nights spent in a prison cell. After a while, the routine got old, and Sandor stayed away from the bars, hiding away in his home in the woods, trying to get a bit of a grip on his life.

One day, several months ago, he had been in town buying some buckshot when he overheard some men raving over some amazing sandwich that was being served at the local diner. Sandor preferred to eat his meals in solitude, and usually made his own food at home or bought take-out. He had never set a foot near the town's beloved diner, but for some reason, once he left the store, his feet carried him over that way. He stared at the clean, crisp, yet bright and friendly diner, and almost turned away. Something prodded him forward, though, and he entered the diner.

Old-fashioned music was playing from a jukebox in a corner, increasing his discomfort. With his steel grey eyes he searched for a seat and found a booth at the back. Perfect. He took long strides over to it, ignoring the surprised glances of the other customers. He debated for a moment over sitting with his back to everyone, but he decided to sit on the other side so _he_ could see what was going on. Better not be surprised by anything.

He had settled into the blue leather seat and started to look warily at the bright, shiny menu when he saw her.

Even now, he could still remember what she was wearing. The diner's owner apparently didn't care about uniforms. The girl was wearing a dark navy crocheted skirt that was fitted yet not too short or revealing, and a soft grey sweater with a white peter pan collar, tucked into the skirt and paired with a skinny black belt. A clean white apron covered the front of her skirt. A very simple outfit, yet she looked like a million bucks in Sandor's opinion. She had very long, fiery red hair that tumbled down her shoulders and back in waves. Her skin was creamy white, and her perfect lips were pink and curved in a smile as she chatted with another customer, hugging a tray to her chest.

Sandor stared at her in fascination. She looked young, but from her curves she was definitely a woman. And very unlike any other woman in this town.

Apparently done with the customer, the girl's eyes roved over the room, glancing over the people until her eyes fell on him the corner. He saw that she had blue eyes, as they widened and took in his appearance. She was clearly surprised by his dark and brooding presence, and probably even more so by the way his eyes were devouring her.

The look only lasted on her face a couple seconds before she replaced it with a polite smile and headed over to him, practically gliding over the checkered tile. She set the tray down on an empty table before reaching his booth. "Hello," she greeted him in a soft voice. Sandor felt like his innards had turned into squirming snakes and were threatening to come spilling out of his mouth. "What can I get for you?" she asked. _Get it together, stupid_. He cleared his throat. "A beer, for now." The girl nodded. "Ok. My name is Sansa. Let me know if you want to order something else." Her smile was part shy, part polite, and she moved away towards the kitchen.

After that day, Sandor made it point to go to the diner at least once a week. He was entranced by this girl, and more than once he told himself he was being an idiot. What purpose did it serve him to keep going there? Yet he continued going. It turned out that booth was one of Sansa's assigned tables, so he made it point to sit there whenever it was free. He came at night, during the week when the diner was usually not so busy. And he sat there, watching as the red-head flitted from table to table, taking orders, filling up drinks, laughing and chatting with other customers. Another girl worked with her a lot, a short, dark haired girl with dark eyes and a mischievous air about her. Eventually Sandor learned that the two girls shared a room together at Petyr's hotel, and that they were orphans.

Sometimes he sat with his back to the rest of the diner. He already felt like a creeper, and he didn't need Sansa thinking that too.

He had recovered from his initial roadblock when he first saw her, and settled back into his usual temperament, which consisted of brooding, and smirks that were for her alone. He never spoke much to her, and it was always a little awkward whenever she waited on him. At least, it was awkward on her end. Sandor had never wanted to be around someone else so much in his life, which was unheard of since he didn't really care for people in general.

But this girl…he craved every shy look her blue eyes cast his way, every nervous smile, the soft sound of her melodic voice. He wanted to get to know her, to hear her talk about something other than what the specials for the day were. But, being who he was, Sandor didn't really know _how_ to get to know someone, much less this petite girl. They had zero things in common, from what he could deduce.

Months went by in this manner, and then the night she was attacked happened. Everything had changed then.

Sandor had dropped his truck off that afternoon to get it fixed, and ended up being in town for a while, so he went to one of the bars to have just one or two drinks and watch a game that was on. The mechanics had promised to have the truck ready that night, so he waited.

On his way to pick the truck up, carrying his rifle over his shoulder, he heard a scream echo from one of the alleys nearby. His senses picked up danger, and hurried in the direction of scream. His ears soon picked up the sounds of scuffling, and some men's voices. He turned a corner and saw Sansa pressed up against a wall by three men.

The pure rage and anger that consumed him was like nothing he had ever felt, and dropping his gun, he fell upon the men, beating them to a pulp. He considered killing them, but figured that wouldn't go over well with Sansa or the police, so instead he left them with a warning, and led the shaking girl away.

After that night, things between Sansa and he changed. At first he thought she was just trying to be kind to him for saving her, but after a while he noticed that she seemed to want to be around him. When he had found her in the woods and taken her to his house, he wasn't sure what to think, and wasn't sure what she thought of him. They hadn't spoken much, but now the silence wasn't awkward. It had felt…right, to be sitting next to her on his porch.

Sandor looked up the sky, watching the thick rolling clouds, remembering last night. Before he had gone tramping through the whole damn forest looking for Arya with the Sheriff.

Sansa's singing on the stage had practically sent him to another world, and he knew then he was going to make sure he spent the better part of the night in her company. Her voice was as beautiful as she was, and Sandor wondered if he could get her to sing again.

Taking Sansa to the bar with him had been a risky move on his part, but she had seemed to enjoy herself. Sure the drinks helped her ease up some, but they had finally got to know each other a bit more. Handholding had gone to his arm draped around her to practically snuggling in the booth. She was shy and a little hesitant, but didn't turn away his attentions, and Sandor had felt hopeful, for the first time, that she saw him as something other than the Hunter. And he had been _this_ close to kissing her when of course that damn policewoman had shown up and ruined everything.

Sandor shook his head. He wasn't sure why some people in the town had a sudden interest in his and Sansa's…. friendship…but it was pissing him off. The mayor had threatened that he would regret his descision to continue seeing her, and Sandor couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

Arya and Nathan trekked through the woods, following the faint path the Hunter's long legs had made in the foliage, pausing to cut a mark into a tree every now and then. After an hour or so they reached the spot where Arya had been found, and they slid down the slope towards the tree where she had slept.

It was getting darker, so they flipped their flashlights on and searched the ground for any signs left behind by the mysterious people. Arya found a little bit of the green paste dried up on the ground, and the dirt was still disturbed from the fight between the bear and Wolf.

"See anything?" Nathan asked her as he passed his flashlight through the bushes. "Nothing," Arya said, frustrated. Nathan pursed his lips and glanced at the ground by the bushes. "Wait…Arya, come here," he said. His flashlight was pointed at a patch on the ground. "Does…does that look like a footprint to you?" he aked. Arya studied it. "It sure does!" she answered excitedly. "And it's pointing this way…let's go!" They headed off into the bushes with renewed energy.

After a few minutes they stopped and looked around, searching for more clues. Nathan took a couple steps forward and suddenly the air was rushed out of him as something jerked him by the leg and he swung upside down from a tree. "Nathan!" Arya wisely stood still, not wanting to get trapped as well. "I'm alright, I think," Nathan said, twisting around to see his foot was caught up by some kind of weird rope.

Some bushes rustled, and Arya whipped her knife out defensively. "Who's there," she demanded. The rustling stopped for a moment, then a tall boy walked out of the bushes. He was wearing rough clothes that looked like they were made from animal skins, and his green eyes flickered in Arya's flashlight. "Who are?" she asked. The boy glanced from her to Nathan, then walked over to the tree. He cut something, and Nathan fell to the ground with a thump. "You should watch where you step," the boy said. He sounded neither superior nor scolding; just stating a fact. Nathan brushed himself off. "Uh…thanks," he said. Arya came forward, her knife still pointed at the strange boy. "Who the heck are you?" she asked again. The boy considered her calmly. "You are in our woods, so I think I should ask you who you are," he answered. Before Arya could retort Nathan spoke quickly. "I'm Nathan, and this is Arya."

The boy's eyes flickered back to Arya. "Ah yes. You're the girl we found in the woods the other night." Arya straightened, lowering her knife. "So it was you…yes, your voice sounds familiar." She paused. "Do you live in the woods?" The boy hesitated. "I'm afraid I shouldn't tell you. In fact, it would best if you left and never tried to find us again." He turned to leave. "Wait!" Nathan said, stepping forward. "Do you…" he paused. "Do you know anything about magic?" The boy stopped dead. Slowly he looked back at them. "Interesting question. Why do you ask?" "Well…it sounds kind of crazy," Nathan continued. "But…we…that is, Arya and I…we believe that Crimson Island is under a magic spell. A curse. No one here ages but me. Nothing ever changes. It's like time stands still." He took a deep breath. "We are trying to break it. And…we wanted to know if you…knew anything about it."

The boy looked at them for a moment. "If you truly believe this…" "We do," Arya interrupted. "Then come with me, and I will show you what we know of magic." The boy turned and began walking back into the bushes, the tow children following him. "Wait up!" Arya called. She fell into step next to him. "We gave you our names. Now what's yours?" The boy's green eyes shone in the dark. "My name is Jojen."

A/N: Just a heads up: for those of you who haven't read the books, Arianne is a Martell, the family who rules the land of Dorne in GoT. That family should make an appearance in the upcoming season :)

Some songs for this chapter:

In the air tonight – Phil Collins

Kingdom Come – The Civil Wars

I come up with Sansa's outfits from my Pinterest, in case anyone wants to know.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: So every attempt at page breaks is still not working, so I'm simply going to label each section according to the character. I give up.

Chapter 24

Nathan

The two children followed Jojen deeper into the woods. The boy seemed to know his way so well he didn't even need a light. He said nothing, but he glanced at Arya and Nathan frequently. Nathan wasn't sure what to expect, but he was excited at the prospect of discovering more magic to further their cause.

They finally saw firelight glimmering through the trees, and Jojen led them into a clearing. Two small makeshift huts were erected at the far side, with a blazing campfire in front. Logs were situated near the fire, and a girl was sitting on one of them. She jumped up when she saw Nathan and Arya.

"Jojen!" she gasped. "Why did you bring them here!" She was holding a spear in one hand. "It's ok, Meera. They are…friends." Jojen led them to the fire. "They seek answers about magic, Meera." The girl did not look happy. "It doesn't matter what they want! Our cover is blown. They'll tell people we are here." "We aren't going to tell anyone," Nathan tried assuring her. "Yea, that's right," Arya added. The girl was still frowning, but she sat back down. Jojen motioned for them to sit too.

"So…you two live out here?" Nathan asked. Jojen nodded. "That's pretty cool," Arya piped up. "If I lived in the woods, I'd build a tree house though." "Who says we haven't," Meera snorted. "What's your deal? Look, we're sorry we found your campsite, but this is really important," Arya lashed out. Nathan placed a hand on her arm. "It's true." He licked his parched lips and looked at the two strange children dressed in furs and leaves. "Please, if you know anything that could help…please tell us." Jojen and Meera glanced at each other and seemed to have a silent conversation with their eyes. "Perhaps it would be better if we showed you, instead of tell you," Jojen said slowly. "You can't tell anyone," Meera begged. "People will already think we're nuts for living in the woods." "I can't promise we won't tell anyone," Nathan said, "but we will be very careful about who we tell. I promise." Jojen nodded. "Good. Then come with me." He stood up with Meera, and they began walking out of the clearing. Nathan and Arya followed.

Arya hurried up to Meera. "That's a sweet spear. Could you show me how to make one?" she asked. That seemed to soften Meera up, and she began explaining her technique. Nathan chose to walk beside Jojen. "Have you always lived here?" he asked. "Yes. As long as we can remember. Our first memories are of the place up ahead. We still aren't exactly sure what it means, but we both felt…called to protect it. We weren't sure what people would do if they found it." Nathan's brow furrowed, wondering what they were about to see.

They started to enter another clearing when Jojen halted them with his arm. "What you two are going to see…is a bit alarming," he warned. "But you asked for magic. So we give you magic." He nodded for them to go ahead.

Nathan and Arya walked into the clearing. Before them sprawled a large white tree, bigger than many of the oaks in the forest. The color of the leaves was hard to see in the dark, but they seemed to have a reddish tint to them. But it was what was at the base of the tree that made Arya gasp and Nathan felt a cold sweat break out over his body as he gaped at the sight.

A person was connected to the tree. His limbs had been partially swallowed into the bark, as well as the back of his head and part of his torso. The head was bent forward slightly, and at a closer look it seemed that he was sitting in a groove in the tree. The person's eyes were closed, and his face was a ghastly greyish-white, with hardly any color to indicate he was human. His hair was dark and shaggy, and leaves were stuck in it.

"What…what is that?" Arya managed in a strangled voice. Nathan took a step closer and he realized that the person was actually a boy. "Magic," Jojen answered quietly. "But…he's part of the tree! How did that happen?" Nathan asked. Meera shrugged. "We don't know. He's always been like that." "Is he…alive?" Arya asked. She looked horrified yet intrigued. Nathan felt the same way. "We didn't think so," Jojen said. He had walked over to the tree and was staring up into the boy's face. "We had been paying a visit to him when suddenly his mouth opened and he gave a sort of gasp, and I thought his eyes tried to open, but then his face froze again." "When exactly was that?" Nathan asked, a tingling feeling spreading through him. "A couple of weeks ago," Jojen replied.

Nathan turned to look at Arya. "A couple of weeks ago the clock started to work again, too," he said. She nodded, her eyes shining. "It's the curse weakening!" She walked up to the boy in the tree, gazing at him thoughtfully. "I wonder…if we weaken the curse some more, maybe he'll…wake up or something. Maybe he knows more about the spell and why it's happening! He might even know how to break it!" Nathan turned to Jojen and Meera. "Do you believe us?" They nodded. "We do. It seems…however impossible…a possible explanation for this," Jojen said. "Alright!" Arya pumped her fist. "Two more for Operation Cobra! Oh, sorry," she said to the tree-boy. "Three for Operation Cobra!"

Jaime

"Ugh, we're getting no where," Jaime complained as he threw himself into the cruiser. Brienne sat in the passenger seat. "There were too many people out an about that night. Anyone could fit this description," she agreed wearily. Jaime sighed, staring out the windshield and wondering what to do next. This wasn't a big town, but the island was quite large, and those men could be anywhere by now.

He winced as a sharp pain suddenly shot through his right hand and he gripped it. "Ouch…" "You ok?" Brienne asked. "Yea…that was weird." Confused, he opened and closed his palm, the pain leaving prickles under his skin and spreading to his wrist. "That's never happened before. It just felt like some stabbed my hand with a knife," he told Brienne. She frowned. "Huh. Maybe you should get that checked out. We can't have our sheriff losing control of his gun arm." "Yea…" Jaime stared at his hand as it slowly started to feel normal again except for a dull throb.

They started driving again, heading for another bar. The late afternoon sun shone over the town, and the sidewalks were becoming busier. The library came into view, and Jaime decided to pull off. "What are we doing?" Brienne asked. "I'm gonna head in there real quick and ask Tyrion something." Jaime stepped out of the cruiser and headed inside the warm library. Sam was wheeling a cart of books down an aisle, and Tyrion was at the desk as usual. "Ah, Sheriff. What can I do for you?" the short man asked. Jaime hesitated. He didn't like to involve civilians in cases, but Tyrion was a smart man, and Jaime had learned over the years that although he was quiet, he tended to keep his ears and his mismatched eyes open.

"I trust you've heard about the events of last night?" "Why, of course. I might be the unsociable librarian, but I do know the latest news." The dwarf studied Jaime with curious eyes. "And you're here because you want my sage advice, is that it?" Jaime sighed. "To an extent…I just want to know if you have any idea who could be behind this. Brienne and I have very little in the way of leads…and I know I can trust you." Tyrion tapped his fingers on the desk for a moment before leaning forward. "I'll do what I can. You'd be surprised how willing people can be to spill details to a dwarf over a policeman."

Cersei

The mayor paced back and forth in her house, re-reading the note Nathan had left. Why did he have to run off again? Why couldn't he just do what he was told? Frustrated, she debated calling Jaime. She knew he was most likely out searching for Ramsay and his men, and this would be a good excuse to stall him.

Cersei picked up the phone and dialed his number. It rang a few times before he picked up. "Hello?" "Jaime, Nathan's gone missing again. He left a note but didn't really say where he was going. I think he might be with Arya though. I called the hospital and they said she disappeared." The Sheriff sighed on the other line. "I'll send Bronn and another officer to look for them. This case has me suddenly wishing we had a bigger police force." "Any leads?" Cersei asked casually. "Not really. There's not much evidence to go on. But I'll keep you posted." There was a pause. "I love you." "I love you too." She hung up, then called another number.

"Are you ready?" "Yes, Madam Mayor. We have all we need. Just have to wait for nightfall." "Good. And this time, don't leave a trace."

She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine, mulling over what she was going to do about her son. There was obviously no point in trying to convince him that he was wrong about her. But how had he found out so easily? Would he be able to connect the dots? Cersei wasn't sure how much evidence of magic was lying around Crimson Island, and she wasn't exactly sure how the curse would be broken. She hadn't even known the curse _could_ be broken. But for some reason, Mr. Steel had seen to it that there was a way. Well, at least it didn't appear to be an easy one. Maybe there was still time to prevent the magic from weakening more. Her plans hadn't been working so far, and Cersei was feeling more than a little discouraged by this.

Hopefully, tonight would go off without a cinch.

Sansa

The telephone rang, jarring Sansa from a deep sleep. Slowly she reached over and picked up the receiver. "…Hello?" "Sansa? It's Jeyne, from the hospital. Arya has disappeared and I was wondering if you'd seen her." Sansa sat up quickly. "What? No, I haven't. When did she leave?" "I'm not sure. She was visiting a coma patient a couple hours ago. When I went to check on her, she was gone. She left a note saying she was leaving, but didn't say where. We've notified the police and they're keeping an eye out." Sansa fell back on the pillows, rubbing her eyes. "I think it's just Arya being Arya. She hates hospitals and feeling like an invalid. I'm sorry she's caused trouble." "It's ok, but we really can't have escaped patients," Jeyne answered, trying to joke. "I'll call if she comes back to the hotel," Sansa assured her.

After they hung up, she lay awake, wondering where her roommate could be. She hoped she wasn't in trouble. What if she had run into those men that tried to hurt her and Nathan? Sansa was suddenly worried and bit her lip. What could she do? The police were probably busy with the case, and she didn't want to bother them. Then a person came to mind whom she could call.

Throwing back the covers, she stumbled over to her jeans that were lying in a heap on the floor and dug around in her pockets for a folded up napkin. As she did so, she realized that Arya's backpack was missing from its usual corner. She stood up and went to the dresser. A quick glance told her that Arya had taken the flashlight and a few other things they kept on the shelf. The younger girl must have snuck in while she was sleeping! Sansa shook her head and went back to her jeans to search for the napkin. Finding it, she climbed back into the bed and pulled the covers over her. She was wearing only underwear and an old t-shirt, so she was a bit chilly.

Sansa unfolded the napkin and studied the number that was written lazily across the corner. She picked up the phone again and dialed.

It rang for a while, and she almost gave up when the line clicked. "Hello?" came a raspy voice. Sansa smiled. "Hey…it's Sansa." "Oh, hey Little Bird." She snuggled down under the covers. "Did I bother you?" "No, I gave up trying to go back to sleep a while ago." His voice sounded deeper than usual, and it made her skin prickle. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I just woke up," she said. "The hospital called me and said Arya escaped. You haven't seen her have you?" The Hunter snorted. "No, I haven't. I'm sure she'll turn up though." "Yea…I hope so." There were a few moments of silence, and Sansa tried to think of something else to say. If only she wasn't so tired still! Her brain felt fuzzy.

"Do you work tomorrow?" Sandor asked suddenly. "Yes, it's a shorter shift though. I'll be off in the afternoon." "Do you want to hang out again?" Her heart beat fast at his words. "Yes," she answered a little too quickly. He chuckled, and she felt a delightful fluttering in her tummy at the sound.

They talked for couple more minutes before saying goodbye, and Sansa curled back up under the covers, feeling much better knowing she was going to see him the next day, and she temporarily forgot about Arya.

A/N: Short, but the next chapter will be up soon!


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Nathan

Nathan opened the front door and stepped in quietly, shutting it softly behind him. It was nighttime now, and he knew his mom was going to be madder than a hornet that he had been gone all day. The lights in the house were dim, and he heard the faint noise of the TV coming from the living room. He could only hope that Cersei had fallen asleep watching the news.

As he crept towards the stairs, Cersei suddenly appeared from out of the kitchen. He froze as her flaming green eyes seared through him. "Where. Have you. Been?" she asked through clenched teeth. Swallowing, Nathan tried to think of the best way to answer that question. "Um…in the woods." "The woods," his mother repeated, folding her arms. "And what, pray tell, were you doing in the woods all day to come home this late? I have been worried sick, Nathan! The police are looking for you!" "I left a note," Nathan said sheepishly. He hated being yelled at, especially by Cersei. She was scary when she was upset.

The blonde woman closed her eyes for a moment, as if she was trying to muster every ounce of patience she had left. "A note is not permission, nor does it excuse you," she said. "You're grounded. You'll go to school, and come home. That's it." Nathan felt desperation course through him. He couldn't be locked up in his house now! Not when they were so close to weakening the curse some more! "Mom, look, I'm really sorry to worry you, but this is important!" "Important? Nathan, you don't understand what's going on here. This magic is dangerous, and you need to just let it go!" "How do you know about it?" Nathan asked, setting his backpack down. "How do you know about the curse? And why are you so scared?" Cersei stared at him, and he could almost see the gears working in her head, trying to formulate and answer. "I can't tell you, Nathan. It's none of your business!" His mother took a deep breath. "Now…go to your room."

Nathan lowly turned and began walking up the stairs. Half-way up he paused and looked down at Cersei. "I don't understand why you won't help us," he said quietly. "But I'm not giving up."

Arya

Instead of heading for home, Arya cut across town back to the antique shop. Her mind was racing with what she and Nathan had seen earlier in the woods. At last! They actually had proof that magic was indeed real. A boy half-swallowed into a tree was not an everyday occurrence.

She reached the shop and knocked on the door eagerly. A light turned on, and Mr. Steel answered. "Arya," he said. "Back so soon?" She brushed past him into the shop. "You won't believe what we found!" she exclaimed as the man shut the door. "Nathan and I went back to the woods to look for those people, like you said. They turned out to be a boy and girl living in the woods. And they showed us something that really proves magic!"

Mr. Steel walked over to the counter and leaned on it. "And what was that?" he asked. Arya explained to him about the boy in the tree, and what Jojen and Meera had told them. His eyes widened and he scratched his chin. "Interesting…that he would be here like that…" he mused. "What do you mean?" Arya asked. "Do you know that boy?" "I know of him, yes," Mr. Steel answered mysteriously. "Oh, let me guess: you can't tell me how," Arya said sarcastically. He smiled. "All in good time, my girl. The more you weaken the curse, the more you'll find out. And now, I have something for you."

He led her over to the wall of swords and took down the thin, sharp little sword Arya had admired weeks ago. "This sword…it belonged to a girl who was much like you," Mr. Steel said, an almost fond note in his voice. "I think it's time you have it." He held it out.

Arya took the sword from him gingerly, weighing it in her hand and studying its make. "But I don't know how to use it," she said. "And when am I going to need a sword?" "You may know more than you think," he said, a twinkle in his eye. "This is a valuable weapon, and it may come of some use to you soon."

The girl left the shop and hurried back to the hotel, clutching the sword. It felt…_good_, somehow, to hold it. There was already some sort of emotional attachment to the weapon, and Arya wondered what had happened to the girl who owned it before her. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with it though. Then she smiled. It was a sword, and the result was simple: stick 'em with the pointy end.

Sansa

Arya had crept in late that night, and Sansa couldn't keep from admonishing her over the escape from the hospital and then disappearing. "For goodness sakes, Arya: the police were looking for you again!" "I'm fine! See! I just had to go back to the woods for something," Arya argued. The room was dark so Sansa didn't see the sword until the following morning.

"Where did you get that?" she asked as she dressed for work. Arya mumbled in her sleep. "Mr. Steel…gave it to me…" "Why would he do that?" "I don't know…" Arya yawned and rolled over to fall asleep again. Shaking her head, Sansa combed her hair quickly and left the hotel room, locking the door behind her. She pulled her coat tighter around her and headed down the stairs. It was early, so none of the other residents seemed to be up yet, including Petyr.

Sansa walked briskly down the sidewalk, glancing at a building next to her, and stopped dead in her tracks. Someone had sprayed graffiti on the wall. In bold yellow letters it read, "The red-head's a whore". Sansa stared in shock. Who would have done this? She hurried on, and discovered more an more graffiti littering buildings and signs, all saying the same thing until she reached one that said "Sansa is a whore". Another one near it read, "Sansa likes to f %& older men".

Sansa had never felt more mortified in her whole life. Icy numbness filled her body, and her heart beat in panic. Several passersby had noticed the writings as well, and they were pointing at her. Some even laughed. Sansa felt a deep red blush creep up into her face and she forced herself to move. She rounded a corner and reached the diner, gasping when she saw that the usually spotless building was covered in crude words along with her name. She was rooted to the spot, tears pooling in her eyes, unable to do anything.

"Hey whore, you made the news!" a man sneered as he passed by, shoving a newspaper in her hands. Shaking, Sansa stared at the article in front of her. It was a whole column about how she was an innocent and pretty girl on the outside, but inwardly she was nothing but a whore who liked to sleep her way around the bars, sometimes for money, and showed particular interest in older men. It even mentioned the Hunter as her newest conquest. Sources included Harold Wing, and some other names she didn't know. The author of the article was gossip columnist Varys.

Sansa crumpled the paper in her hands, tears rolling down her cheeks. Most of the town was awake now, and everyone was staring at her and the graffiti. Some of them were laughing and shouting insults at her. Even those who were regulars at the diner!

"Sansa!" Cateyln had opened the front door to the diner and was rushing towards her. "I tried to call the hotel but you had left already," she said breathlessly. Sansa sniffled as she slowly began to tear the newspaper into shreds, a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and horror coursing through her. "Maybe you should go back home," Catelyn said, putting an arm around her. "I'll worry about the diner, ok?" Sansa nodded and turned away, walking as if in a daze. People continued to snicker and call to her, but all she saw were the graffiti words painted on every building, leading all the way back to the hotel.

Sandor

The phone call with Sansa had been unexpected, but welcoming. He didn't really remember writing his number down for her and decided it was something he had done while they were at the bar.

He'd never even given his number out before, not to any of the girls before Sansa or anyone else in town. He was a solitary man, and he liked it that way. The only reason he owned a phone in the first place was in case of emergencies. But now he was very glad he had one: it gave him an excuse to communicate with Sansa when they couldn't see each other.

As Sandor drove along the winding dirt road through the woods, he thought about quickly things had escalated between them. The smoldering feelings he had kept under wraps for so long were igniting into flames, and she had become the single most important person to him. Sandor couldn't say whether she felt the same way or not; in fact, she would probably feel alarmed if she found out he felt this strongly about her. He was rough, brooding, vulgar, man, older than she, and certainly not what someone would have paired with a pretty girl like Sansa. She had accepted all his advances so far though, shyly and hesitantly, but accepted them all the same. He decided that when they hung out together later he would talk to her about whatever it was that was happening between them.

The conversation with the mayor had rattled him, and he couldn't stop thinking about it. He would protect Sansa no matter what happened, and it was foolish to think that the mayor bitch could stand between them, but he had a strange feeling that something was going to happen, that she wouldn't heed his threat.

He pulled into town and began driving to the hardware store when he noticed that several building had graffiti on them, and many people were pointing and talking about it. He slowed down and rolled down his window for a better look and his jaw fell open at what he read. "What the…" He stopped the truck and got out, slamming the door. Some people saw him and scurried away, but he paid them no mind. He marched over to the building and stared at it. Large yellow letters spelled out Sansa's name along with the words "whore" and "bitch". His eyes narrowed dangerously and he clenched his fists. Turning to look down the sidewalk, he saw that the writing continued on several buildings.

A furious rage erupted inside him, similar to how he had felt the night Sansa was almost raped. He spun on his heel and climbed back into the truck, driving to the mayor's office. He saw more graffiti on the way and it fueled his anger. He was going to throttle that…that _bitch_!

Arriving at the office he burst inside to see Cersei calmly working at her desk. "Sandor?" she asked, surprised but cool and unflustered. "You," he seethed, stalking towards her. "How dare you do something like this to Sansa." Cersei blinked at him. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, Hunter." "The graffiti. You're behind it, trying to mar her image. Disgrace her to the whole town." Sandor placed his palms on the desk and glared at her, his mouth twitching. "I had nothing to do with that," Cersei retorted icily. "I'm not involved in such childish antics. I'm the mayor, for goodness sakes. If anything, Sansa has brought the shame on herself." She tossed the morning's newspaper at him and tapped a place on the page. "Read for yourself."

Sandor snatched it up and his eyes scanned the article, his face turning red with anger. "This is the biggest piece of shit I've ever read," he snarled, tossing it back on the desk. Cersei shrugged. "You've no proof that she _hasn't_ done any of that, and here we have sources of her behavior. It's a real shame," she sighed, shaking her head like she was truly sorry. "Sansa seemed like such a sweet young girl. It's a pity that she's been living such a trashy life. And right under our noses. It looks like she made someone very unhappy, probably because they saw her with you." It was all Sandor could do not to reach over and snap her neck. "I know you had something to do with this," he rasped. "And I'm sure the Sheriff will be very interested in hearing what I have to say." Cersei merely raised a brow and examined a perfectly manicured nail. "Honestly, Sandor, sweetie, as if that little threat could rumple me? Whose word do you think Jaime will believe? Mine, or yours? The mayor, or the drunken hunter?" She smiled at him sweetly. "Now please leave."

"You won't get away with this," Sandor growled, fuming. He nearly wrenched the door off its hinges as he left. Stomping back to the truck, he let loose a colorful string of swear words, all directed at Cersei.

He cranked the truck and drove to the diner, shocked to see that it, too, was covered in graffiti. A cop was there listening to Catelyn ranting about the state of her building and how it was going to be bad for business and why in the world would someone make up such things about a sweet girl like Sansa? He didn't see the red-head anywhere in sight.

Petyr's hotel wasn't too far, and Sandor decided to check there first before asking if anyone had seen her. He parked and walked through the front door. Petyr was sitting behind the counter, and he gave Sandor a frosty smile. "Why, hello, Hunter. Need a room? Or are you perhaps sharing one with a certain…somebody?" Sandor cast him a dark look. "Mind your own business." He climbed the stairs, ignoring whatever smart remark Petyr had most likely been cooking up all morning, and headed down the hallway towards Sansa's and Arya's room.

He paused before the door, trying to listen for any sounds within, then he knocked softly. "Sansa?" he asked in a low voice. "Go away," a small, sniffling voice answered. He sighed. "Come one, Little Bird. Open the door for me." There was silence, but then he heard the sound of a lock being unbolted, and the door opened.

Sansa must have changed from whatever perky outfit she was going to work in. She wore instead a pair of navy sweatpants and a green hoodie. Her wavy hair was mussed, and her face was streaked with tears. Her eyes were watering as she stood there looking at him.

They stared at each other for a few moments before Sansa's shoulders started to shake and she lifted a hand in an attempt to cover her face as she broke down into sobs. Sandor reached forward and pulled her into his arms, and she accepted the embrace, crying into his chest. He walked them backwards into the room and shut the door behind them, keeping her wrapped in his arms as she sobbed. "There, there, Little Bird," he rasped, "You're alright." Sandor was never good at giving advice or comfort, and he felt a bit lacking in knowing what to say. So he just held her as the tears flowed freely, and he hated that she had to suffer this kind of anguish. Arya was nowhere to be seen, so she must have left for school already. Sandor wondered if the younger girl had seen the graffiti yet.

After a bit she pulled away slightly, wiping her face on the sleeves of her hoodie. "I'm sorry," she sniffled. "For what?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "That you got pulled into this," she whispered, her lip trembling. "That article…" "Bugger that article. I don't care," Sandor rasped. "I already have a bad reputation; it's not like a few words on a page will make much of a difference." Sansa looked at him and sighed, then leaned forward to rest her head on his chest. "Take me away from here," she whispered.

Sandor's heart swelled at her words, and he nodded. "You can stay with me as you long as you like, Little Bird. Bring whatever you need." Sansa gave him a smile and a hug, then pulled away. She went to the closet and pulled down a worn leather weekender bag and began stuffing it with clothes and other necessities. Sandor watched her quietly, and took the opportunity to survey the rest of the room.

It was cramped living arrangements. He could see a tiny bathroom adjacent to the left near the closet. On the right, opposite the bed, the room jutted out into a few feet of empty space. A kitchen-like area held a small fridge, a stove, a sink, and couple cabinets. The girls didn't have a table or chairs, but Sandor could see that they were using an old wooden crate covered by a thin blanket to eat on. A rusty heater growled under the window. He shook his head. He liked to live simply, but this…this was not fit for Sansa. She deserved to live in a mansion and eat off fine china plates.

He looked back at Sansa and saw that she had come to stand near him, her bag on her shoulder. She must have noticed him glancing about the room for she said, "It's…not much. But it's all we have." She gave him a small smile, and the desire to whisk her away with him grew so strong that he turned and nearly took the handle off the door. "Wait. I'm going to leave a message for Arya." He waited while the girl scribbled something down a piece of paper and left it by the phone. When she was done she followed him out into the hall and locked the door. Sandor took her bag from her. "Ready?" he asked, placing his hand on her back. She took a deep breath and nodded, pulling hood up on the sweatshirt, and they went downstairs.

Petyr was still behind the desk, and he stared at them, his cool eyes taking in Sansa, Sandor's hand on her, and the bag. "Ah, going somewhere, Sansa?" he asked in a frosty voice. Sandor steered her towards the door as Sansa nodded, biting her lip. "Don't forget the rent is due soon," Petyr quipped. Sandor held the door open for her, then turned and gave Petyr the middle finger before following her out.

Sandor threw her bag in back of the truck and got in. Sansa was already inside, her legs pulled up on the seat and she glanced around furtively. Sandor realized that they would see some of the graffiti as they drove out of town. "Maybe you should lay down," he said, his raspy voice sounding loud in the still cabin. "That way…you won't see it…" he trailed off as Sansa turned her sad blue eyes on him, but she shifted in her seat and lay down, her head resting near his leg. He started the engine and drove, grimacing as the graffiti soon came into view. People were still pointing at it, and the reporters for the town's newspaper were out and about, asking questions and taking pictures.

He cursed at them inwardly. Bunch of stupid cowards, to turn so quickly and eagerly on an innocent girl. He rested a free hand on Sansa's shoulder and rubbed it gently. "We're almost out, Little Bird." They reached the last light and turned off the road that led out of town, and Sandor felt Sansa's hand come up and take the one he had rested on her shoulder.

Arya

Arya sat in the classroom, steaming. She had left for school soon after Sansa had left for work, and it hadn't taken her long to reach the beginnings of the graffiti. She couldn't believe her eyes. Whoever had written all those horrible things about her friend was going to pay, and pay big time. Arya pictured herself stabbing the evil-doer with her sword, and blood poured out from the wound.

She shook herself in her seat, trying to look like she was paying attention to the lesson. The entire town seemed to be in an uproar over the graffiti, and a lot of the kids had wasted the morning asking the teacher questions about some of the words. Arya had been a subject of attention as well, not just because of her disappearance the other day, but also because of her association with Sansa. The adults in the hallways had given her either sympathetic or suspicious looks, and on the way to school several people had tried to stop and ask her questions about the writing. It was all so stupid. Didn't these morons know that Sansa wasn't like that at all? Couldn't they see she was being framed?

She needed to see Nathan. He would know if it was his mother behind all this. Arya had an inkling that it was, but who could the mayor have got to do such a nasty business? A new thought hit her. What if it was the same men who had attacked her and Nathan the other night? She chewed her pen, thinking it over. It was a possibility; for some reason, the mayor had targeted Arya. And now Sansa. But why? It couldn't just be because they were trying to break the curse. After all, Sansa didn't even know about it. _I should have told her,_ Arya thought. She should have told Sansa about the curse, that way she at least knew things weren't as they seemed in this town and she wasn't being targeted for no reason. The older girl was probably in hysterics over the graffiti, and Arya couldn't do anything to help until school was over.

Recess finally came. Though it was mostly for the younger kids, the older students were allowed some time outside to relax and stretch after being in classrooms for so long. Arya spotted Nathan and hurried over to him. "Dude, what the heck is going on? Did you see…?" "Yea…I saw," Nathan answered miserably. "I'm really sorry…I don't know why my mom did this." Arya took a deep breath. "So it was her." Nathan nodded. "I asked her about it, and she said that Sansa had simply brought this on herself, and she had nothing to do with it. But I could tell. She was lying, the same as she was about the curse."

A younger boy suddenly ran up to them. "Who…oh hey, Rickon," Arya said, giving the boy a friendly slap on the arm. "I have to tell you something," Rickon said, hopping first on one foot, then the other. "It's about…" he lowered his voice and leaned in. "I think it's about Sansa." Wide-eyed, Arya and Nathan drew Rickon off to the side of the playground away from the other children. "What's this now?" Arya asked. "Yesterday I was playing around my house, and I heard these men talking, and I listened. One of them asked if they had everything they needed, and then they said they would do it tonight. They also said this girl wouldn't put up as much of a fight, and that she was prettier." Arya and Nathan furrowed their brows and glanced at each other. "Is that all they said?" "No, no," Rickon answered. "One of the men said he wasn't sure why _she_ was so obsessed with two girls, but the fact that _she_ gave them this job showed _she_ still trusts them." He paused. "Who's "she"?" Arya grabbed Nathan's arm. "Nathan…" she whispered. The other boy swallowed. "I know. I knew it. It is her."

"Rickon, did you see what these men looked like?" Arya asked. The younger boy scrunched up his face. "Not really. I looked, but they were gone. All I saw was that one of them was wearing a leather jacket and limped a little, and they were smoking." Arya exhaled and ran a hand through her hair. "Do you two know what this means?" Nathan clenched his fists. "It means it's time for my mother to step down as mayor."

A/N: I realize that Sandor has much more of a...potty mouth in canon, but I'm not really into cussing so I'm keeping his more foul language to a minimum. It's fun coming up with creative substitutes :3


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Cersei

Things were going much better, in Cersei's opinion. With the appearance of the graffiti, the town seemed to have forgotten about the fire behind her house and Arya's disappearances. The police were now trying to discover the culprits behind the vandalism, and arranging for the buildings to be cleaned. Jaime looked tired and frustrated, but Cersei knew it was for the best.

She had given a short speech to the news crew about how shocked she was that not only someone would deface town property, but also that a girl like Sansa had turned out to be such a disgrace. "I hope that this will be a lesson to her; that she will know it is not too late to change her ways and become an upstanding citizen of this community," she said gravely. "As for the vandals, no matter what their motivation, they will be caught and dealt with accordingly." She had, of course, no intention of letting Ramsay and his followers be caught, but as mayor she was supposed to say something about how justice would prevail, etc.

Cersei finished discussing the graffiti with some of the townspeople and was walking back to her car when a figure joined her side. "You look pleased with yourself," Petyr spoke, stroking his moustache. Cersei rolled her eyes. "What do you want, Petyr? I don't have time for your games today." "Oh, I only came to tell you that your little plan has only half-worked." She paused and looked at him. "What do you mean?" "I mean," Petyr said, stepping closer so that she could smell the mint wafting off him, "that while your little stunt with the graffiti has tarnished Sansa's reputation to the town, it has not driven her and the Hunter apart from each other." He smirked. "In fact, I'd say it has had the opposite effect." Cersei crossed her arms and unwillingly stepped closer to him. "What have you seen?" "The Hunter came by earlier to see Sansa. They left together not long after, and he was carrying a bag of her belongings with him." Petyr's eyes clashed with hers. "It seems she ran right into his arms and he's whisked her away."

Chewing on his words for a moment, Cersei glanced down the street, then back at the man in front of her. "I was prepared in case such a thing might happen," she said coolly. "You underestimate me."

Arya

As soon as school let out, Arya headed for home. Nathan was grounded, but he promised to come up with a plan to tell the Sheriff about what his mother had been up to.

Arya hurried down a side street towards some bramble where she had hidden her sword. Something felt off today, and having the weapon in hand made her feel a little safer. She tucked it under her arm and turned to go when she spotted a figure standing before her. "Mr. Steel?" She took a step back. The man inclined his head. "Arya." "How…did you know where I was?" she asked. Mr. Steel smiled. "I have good eyes, and I know things. Now, I am here to tell you that you must not go home tonight." "What? Why not?" "It is not safe for you."

Mr. Steel was more serious than Arya had ever seen him, and something in his eyes told her was telling the truth. "But…where should I go? And what about Sansa? She needs me." "Your friend is in good hands," Mr. Steel answered, placing his hands in his coat pockets. "As for you…you can stay at my shop until the air clears." Arya gripped her sword. "How do I know this isn't a trick?" she hissed. "I have dome something to deserve your distrust?" the man asked her quietly. "Go home, if that is what you wish. But don't say I didn't warn you." He turned and began walking away. Arya bit her lip. "Wait!"

Sandor

He stood in the kitchen, his hand wrapped around a cold bottle of beer. He needed a drink after everything that had happened that morning. His fist clenched, remembering the mayor's poisonous words.

Sansa was using the bathroom at the moment, and Sandor again wondered what he was supposed to do with her. He didn't mind having her stay with him; in fact, he rather liked the idea. But he wasn't sure what she expected of him. He had left her bag in the other room, unsure of where she wanted to sleep. The cabin was spacious enough, but there was only one bedroom. Sandor had never expected any kind of company before, and the only other place to sleep was the on the couch. He wouldn't have minded in the least if Sansa was willing to share the bedroom with him, but since their relationship was so new, and she was going through a traumatic event, he decided he would offer her the room and he would stay on the couch. It was comfortable, and he had passed out on it in the past.

Sansa wandered back in and stood in the kitchen doorway, looking at him while she shoved her hands in the front pocket of her hoodie. She had stopped crying, which was good, and she offered him a small smile.

Placing the bottle down on the counter, he stepped forward and pulled her gently into his arms. She complied and rested her head against his chest, and he heard her breath deeply, like she was trying to inhale his scent. He nuzzled her hair for a moment then drew back a little. "Remember when I told you that I had something to show you next time you came over?" She nodded, her eyes searching his face curiously. "Would you like to see?" he asked, tugging playfully on one of the strings of her hood. She smiled again. "Sure."

He took her hand and led her out of the house and down the step, towards the sheds he used for storing his guns and other hunting gear. One of the shed's large garage doors was up, and a large object rested before it, covered in a brown tarp. "What is that?" Sansa asked, clearly interested now. He chuckled and pulled the tarp off, relishing the slight gasp Sansa gave.

It was black motorcycle, styled after the classic Harley look. Sandor grinned and crossed his arms. "What do you think?" The girl walked to it and ran a hand over the sleek black paint and chrome fixtures, the traced the seat. He fingers wandered up to the handlebars. "It's incredible," she breathed. "Did you build this?" He nodded, glad she was impressed. "It was just a piece of scrap metal when I found it. Took it by the mechanics and that Gendry kid told me that it wasn't beyond saving. I've been working on it off and on for months."

"Have you ridden it yet?" "I have. I just finished it a few days before the festival." He felt a smirk pull at his lips as he stepped closer to her, aware of how large his frame was compared to hers. "You want to go for a ride, Little Bird?" he asked, lowering his voice into almost a growl. Sansa blushed and looked nervous. "Aren't motorcycles dangerous?" He chuckled, slipping a hand around her waist and leaning towards her. "_I'm_ dangerous, and you haven't complained yet." Her blush deepened, and Sandor decided he liked making her flustered. "I won't let you fall off or anything. I think you'll like it." Sansa seemed to be wavering then, she glanced up at him. "Ok."

A/N: I know this was a super short chapter, and I'm sorry I haven't written anything lately, but ever since school started I just haven't had the time! I also wanted to let you all know that I attended the Tampa bay Comic-con this past weekend, and it was incredible!

Rory McCann was a sweetheart, just a really down to earth and nice guy all around. When I cam back to volunteer on Sunday, I got to sit at Maisie William's table for the whole day while she was doing autographs, so that was cool! She was really nice and fun to hang out with, and her friend Cassidy was sweet too. Jason Mamoa's table was next to hers, so I got to interact with him a little too. It was a great experience and I'm so glad I went!


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Arya

She glanced around the room, taking in the sparse décor. Mr. Steel obviously lived a simple life. He had only the necessities, with nothing to colorful or showy. A few items that looked like they belonged in his shop were scattered here and there, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Arya wondered how he made money; she had never seen any one else enter his shop, and he didn't exactly sell anything…normal.

The man in question took a sit in a worn grey easy chair, settling back and propping his feet up on the plain wooden coffee table. Arya let her backpack fall to the floor and she sat down on an old couch that looked antique. "So…." she began, also placing her feet on the table. "Are you going to tell me why it's too dangerous for me to go home tonight?" Mr. Steel steepled his fingers and looked at her calmly. "The graffiti over the buildings was an attack on Sansa, clearly, but I do not think that the Mayor is done with you yet," he answered. "The best thing is to keep you out of sight for now. Cersei has her men prowling the streets, waiting for an opportunity to strike." "I can understand why Cersei wants me out of the way," Arya said. "It's because of the curse, and Nathan. But I don't understand why she has it out for Sansa. She hasn't done anything. She doesn't even know about the curse!" "Cersei doesn't know that though…not for sure, anyways," Mr. Steel replied. "And Sansa's case…it has to do with the Hunter."

Arya's eyebrows furrowed, and she ran a hand through her hair. "What do you mean? What does Sandor have to do with this?" Mr. Steel sighed. "It's partially my fault, I suppose. I sort of put the idea in her head, even if it is true. Sansa and Sandor are…linked to each other, from before the curse was cast. Their reunion would be devastating to the magic spell. That is what Cersei wants to avoid. That is why she is taking pains to try to blemish Sansa's name. She thinks it will separate them." Arya stared at him. "But how would them being together hurt the curse? I thought the only way for the curse to be broken was for the right people to find out about it and believe." Mr. Steel nodded. "That is true, but that is only part of the curse's undoing. When the curse was created, certain steps were woven into it to ensure that it could be broken. One way is for people to believe in the curse and revolt against the magic placed over them, as you have been doing. The other way involves love."

"LOVE?" Arya spluttered. "That's ridiculous. Why love?" Mr. Steel smiled at her words. "Love is the greatest and strongest thing in this universe, Arya. Nothing can destroy it. Not even magic can withstand it. So it is only fitting that love be the final key to shattering the curse."

"And you're saying that this…love…is between Sansa and Sandor?" Arya screwed her nose up. "That's weird." She tried to ignore images of her roommate and the Hunter kissing. _Gross_. A new thought occurred to her. "You said something about before the curse happened…what was this place like before the curse?"

"That is the part you will find most curious," Mr. Steel said. "I didn't intend to tell you all this…not yet anyways…but with things moving as they are…perhaps it's for the best." He sat in silence for a few moments. "This place didn't exist before the curse, Arya. " "What?" She couldn't believe her ears. "How…how could a place just not exist?" "The curse created an island to contain the victims of its magic, as part of the caster's wishes. Tell me, have you ever been anywhere but Crimson Island?" "Well…no, of course not," Arya replied. "That's another part of it. Everyone who is under the curse cannot leave this island. If they get in a boat, the sea will simply go on forever, always turning them back towards the island." "But what is the point of keeping us all here?" Arya asked. "The person who cast the curse wanted the perfect community. A place where everyone would follow their wishes. A place where no one would question their authority, or challenge them. A place where they had the upper hand once again."

Arya chewed her lip, thinking over this information. "Then…where did everyone come from?" "Another land. One that is not part of this world. The curse brought us to a place where no magic, but the spell, exists."

Dany

Dany pulled up to the hospital and gathered the flowers in her hands. She hadn't visited Jon in a while, and she felt bad, even though he couldn't possibly know her absence…or presence. Things had been busy at the ranch, and Dany and Jorah were struggling to make ends meet. Petyr had driven over to remind them of the money they still owed him, and he wouldn't leave until Jorah pulled out the giant shotgun he kept in the office.

When Dany walked into the hospital and started down the hallway, she ran into Jeyne. "Oh! Dany!" The pretty girl smiled excitedly. "Good news! The patient you always visit…Jon…his brain scans showed signs of new activity! The doctor thinks he could be on the way to waking up!"

Dany sucked in a breath. "Are you sure?" she asked. The nurse nodded happily, then excused herself, leaving Dany alone in the hall. Slowly the silvery-haired girl walked to Jon's room, opened the door, and took her place beside his bed. He looked the same as when she had last seen him, but this new knowledge caused her to search his face eagerly for a sign. She felt nervous. What would he be like when he woke up? Would he remember anything?

She reached forward and gently took his hand in hers. It was warm and calloused. _He must have worked with his hands a lot_, she thought, turning his palm over to study the skin, and wondering what kind of job he had had before the coma.

A strange tapping sound startled her, and she glanced around the room, trying to figure out where it was coming from. _Tap tap tap. _Dany stood up and edged to the window. It sounded like someone was hitting the glass.

The blinds were drawn, so she pulled the string that caused them to swing open. Sitting on the windowsill was a large black raven, staring at her through the glass. _Snow_, it croaked. _Snow_. _Snow_.

Sansa

Riding a motorcycle was like flying. Sansa gripped Sandor's chest tightly, her cheek pressed against his warm back. The wind whipped through her hair, stinging her cheeks, but the feeling of going so fast was exquisite. She felt free and alive, watching the trees zoom by her in a blur of browns and greens.

She tilted her head to the other side, drinking in the view of the sky and the great expanse of the gray ocean below the edge of the road.

Sandor had taken a path through the woods that led onto a paved road, which wound around the island. Only a thin metal railing stood between them and the island's cliff, but Sansa felt perfectly safe, and even a little exhilarated at the hinted danger. Barely anyone else used the road, so Sandor took full advantage of it, and the motorcycle roared rebelliously down the middle the black pavement.

He pulled off to an outcropping that was obviously a touristy spot, with a little info sign and a bench. He steadied the bike and looked over his shoulder at her. "Having fun, Little Bird?" "Oh yes," she smiling, feeling breathless for some reason. "It's unlike anything I've ever experienced." He chuckled and swung his leg over to stand, and she slid down too, walking over to the edge to gaze at the horizon.

Sandor joined her, resting his palms on the railing. Sansa took a deep breath of the clean, cold air, getting a whiff of the sea churning below them. The water stretched for what seemed an eternity, yet she knew it would end eventually, on some shore elsewhere.

"Do you ever think of leaving this place?" she asked Sandor quietly. "Sometimes," he admitted. "More often than I used to." She turned, resting her back against the railing so she could look at his face. "You do?" He nodded, his grey eyes scanning the scenery then resting on her face. "Where would you go?" He shrugged. "Not sure. It's not like I really need to leave. But…" he trailed off for a moment, choosing his words. "The idea of leaving…of seeing what else there is…sounds very inviting." Sansa nodded. It made sense. "I agree," she told him, her boot playing with a rock at her feet. "I just feel so…trapped here. Like this is all there is for me." She sighed. "And now that…all these things have happened in town…I want to get away even more." Thinking about going back to town and facing accusing and mocking faces everywhere made her stomach lurch, and a hard lump formed in her throat.

Sandor stepped in front of her, placing his hands on either side of the railing behind her, so that their chests were just touching, and gazed into her face intently. "We _could_ leave, you know," he rasped, his voice low and grating. His eyes wandered over her face with an intense desire that both thrilled and startled her. "We could just skip town, head off somewhere else. Forget all these bitches." His warm breath fanned her skin, and Sansa found herself leaning towards him slightly, reveling in his scent and voice. "It would just be you and I, Little Bird," he told her huskily, moving his head to nuzzle at her hair and ear. "Just the two of us. Starting everything over. Not having to worry about all these fools and what they say." Sansa let her eyes drift shut, listening to his words. It sounded so tempting! To just run away, forget all her problems. Sandor would take care of her. They could find a nice little house somewhere, still in the woods but near the seashore…her mind started to reel with the possibilities.

"What do you say, Sansa?" his voice was rough yet soft, and she felt goose bumps dance along her arms when his lips gently nipped at the outside of her ear. He rubbed his nose along her temple, waiting for her response. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding in. "Yes," she answered. He pulled back to look into her eyes. Sansa stared back at him. This was impulsive. Possibly stupid. And not at all like her. But suddenly she wanted it more than anything. Being with him felt like a puzzle piece finally fitting together, like some part of her enclosed, narrow world had opened up, offering her a chance for freedom, and she wanted to take it.

Sandor's eyes had turned darker, almost black, just the way she secretly liked them, and a shiver ran through her as his hand lifted from the railing to cup her cheek, then move to the back of her neck. His other hand tangled itself in her long red locks, and he shifted closer. The blood was ringing in Sansa's ears, and the world slowed as he bent his head, pressing his lips onto hers.

A shock of wonder and joy coursed through her, and she shyly pressed her lips back to his. They were warm, just like the rest of him, and the side that was scarred was oddly rough yet smooth, and she found she liked it. He pulled her closer against his chest and deepened the kiss, moving his lips against hers, not too urgently, but enough to encourage more. She almost started when he ran his hot tongue over her bottom lip and tried to thrust it between her lips, and she opened her mouth curiously. His tongue entered, rubbing against her own, and she all but melted into his embrace, giving him control.

After a moment Sandor's mouth left hers, and he began to kiss her neck, moving her coat collar out of the way for more access. Sansa felt like her head was spinning, and she ran her hands under his jacket, enjoying the feeling of his muscled body so close to her. He trailed his hot mouth to her collar-bone and back up to her ear, where he licked the outer rim. Sansa swallowed, feeling like her legs were going to give out. He captured her mouth with his own again, groaning slightly, until a roll of thunder was heard overhead.

Sandor pulled away reluctantly and studied the sky, then looked back her. "I guess we should head back now, if we don't want to get drenched," he told her, his voice still husky. She nodded, giving him a happy smile, and after another kiss, much shorter than the previous ones, he led her back to the motorcycle.

A/N: First time writing a kissing scene, so...I hope it's ok! Thanks for reviewing! I'm sorry my updates aren't frequent anymore, but school is kicking my butt.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Cersei

The sky was darkening around the edges, foreshadowing the approach of a storm. Cersei was driving out of town, down an unused path. She hadn't visited this spot in a long time, not ever feeling the need or the desire, but with the way things were happening…with the curse weakening…she had to check and confirm that what was hidden in this place were still under control; and still hidden.

She drove far into the woods till she came to the graveyard. A mock graveyard, that is. Only a few graves actually contained people, as far as Cersei knew. It was here when they arrived, and she hadn't bothered much with it. Her heels dug into the pine needles and she approached a crypt that rested at the other end of the yard. Pulling out a set of keys, she put the right one into the crypt's lock and turned it. The hinges creaked and groaned as she pulled the door open, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the stale air, but she entered and pulled the door to.

She took a flashlight out of her pocket and turned it on. The crypt wasn't really a grave; there was a stone platform in the middle of the small room, but no body lay on top. Cersei found the secret panel on the side, and the platform moved to the side, revealing a row of stairs leading down into the dark.

With a deep breath, Cersei walked carefully down the flight, trying to keep her hands from shaking. The light beam bounced off the steps and the walls until she came to the bottom. The stairs led to a large underground cavern filled with still and heavy air. The faint sound of water dripped somewhere.

Cersei stepped forward, flashing her light around, searching. Ah, there they were.

Before her eyes lurked three massive statues. Each one had the same cruel claws, the same ferocious fangs snarling from open mouths. Their tales curled and raised, suspended in the air, and the wings were outspread, as if they had been in the act of flying when the curse took affect.

Danaerys' dragons. The curse had turned them stone, and had them placed in this underground cave, per Cersei's wishes, not only to hide them from prying eyes, but to give herself a piece of mind. The flashlight reflected off the pearly white stone, and she thought she could almost see the scales trapped beneath the prison of rock.

She had wanted to check on them because a part of her was worried that if the curse was weakening it's hold on the town, it would begin to relinquish it's hold on the magic that kept these dragons still and frozen. She shuddered to think what would happen if the stone melted away, and these beasts came to life once more. They would go in search of their mother, no doubt, once they clawed their way out of this cavern. Hopefully, with the steps she had begun taking, this would never happen.

Sansa

A few drops began to fall from the sky as they pulled up to Sandor's house. He helped her off the bike, then told her to go ahead inside. "I'll be in a minute," he told her. "I'm going to put the bike away and close up the sheds. Looks like a nasty storm." So she hurried across the yard as more drops fell on her, Wolf hot on her heels.

The inside of the cabin was cozy and warm, and Sansa peeled off her coat and hung it up, then wandered into the kitchen to see if Sandor had anything hot to drink. A cup of tea sounded wonderful, and she began shuffling around for some. The kitchen was clearly set up by a man; every drawer and cabinet was filled with random items that did not go together, and she giggled to think of Sandor keeping utensils orderly. _It needs a woman's touch_, she decided. Eventually she found some instant hot apple cider packets, and she started making two cups.

The front door opened and closed, and Sansa went back into the other room. Sandor was pulling off his jacket and moved to hang it up beside hers. She hugged herself, watching him, remembering the kiss they'd shared earlier.

As if reading her thoughts, Sandor turned and spotted her, and after a moment of searching her face he walked up and pulled her into his arms. She gave in to his embrace, looking up at him as he ran his fingers through her hair, then one of his hands came to tilt her chin up, and he kissed her. All thoughts of apple cider and rearranging the kitchen fled her thoughts, and Sansa reached up to tangle her fingers in his dark hair. Sandor moaned in her mouth and gripped her tighter. His hand ran down her back and rested on her hip, squeezing. Sansa sighed softly against him, trying to pull herself closer.

Suddenly he broke the kiss, and before Sansa could utter a word of dismay, he had stooped and picked her up in his arms, carrying her towards the large couch. He smirked at her surprise, and settled down in one corner, holding her in his lap and wrapping his arms around her again. Sansa consented to this arrangement happily and snuggled closer to him. She felt safe and wanted; his arms were gigantic and muscular, the very symbols of strength, and she loved it. Everything about him screamed rugged manliness. Even his scars didn't bother her anymore. In fact, they seemed to add to his appeal. He must have endured something tragic to get them, and it proved he was a survivor.

She wiggled till she was in a comfortable position, and Sandor captured her mouth again, this time moving with more urgency and need. She kissed back with equal fervor, hoping she was doing it well. She didn't have much experience with kissing, and hoped he wouldn't mind or didn't notice.

These thoughts vanished as Sandor's hands roamed her body, and one of them began to slip slowly under the edge of her sweater. Sansa's heart was thudding, and instead of pulling away, his hot hand on her skin made her tremble, and she leaned into his touch.

Sandor's presence and kisses were propelling her into a hazy world, and nothing seemed to matter anymore but this moment. His mouth was hot and demanding against hers, and she felt his teeth gently graze her bottom lip, nipping it. She gave a slight gasp and opened her eyes to find him gazing at her. His eyes were dark as slate, and glinting with desire, and holding Sansa's own blue orbs captured. He gave her a wicked grin, sending a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. She felt like she was going to melt under the heat of his gaze, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. Sandor leaned forward and nuzzled at her jaw, kissing and nipping until he reached her ear again, pressing his nose into her hair and inhaling her scent. "Little Bird," he whispered in a rasp. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?" Sansa swallowed, trying to form a coherent thought to answer him. "How long?" she managed to squeak. He chuckled, and she trembled at the sound. "A _very_ long time." His mouth trailed back to hers again, and Sansa brought her fingers up to tangle in his hair once more.

Just as he was beginning to inch his hand further up under her shirt, they heard a knock on the door.

Sandor growled in frustration. "Beat it!" he barked. Sansa giggled and covered her face with her sleeve. He smirked at her and cocked his, listening. The knock came again. "Sandor?" asked a quiet voice beyond the door. Sandor tensed, then sighed. He gave Sansa another quick kiss then scooped her off his lap onto the couch, and went to answer the door. Sansa smoothed her clothes and hair and peeked around to see who was there.

In the doorway stood a tall, older man dressed in a warm but plain brown coat. He looked familiar, but Sansa couldn't place him.

"Hello, Sandor," the man said quietly. "Elder," Sandor answered. He stepped aside and the man came in. His eyes fell on Sansa, and he gave her a small but kind smile. Sansa smiled back. _Elder?_ Sandor gestured for the man to sit, and he himself sat back down next to Sansa.

"You must be Sansa Stark," the man called Elder addressed her. Sansa almost groaned but managed to nod her head politely. No doubt this man had seen the graffiti and read about her in the gossip column. "And you're…Elder?" she asked, trying not to seem too inquisitive. "It's a nickname," he said. Sandor cleared his throat. "Elder works at the rehab center in town. I've…been there a few times." "Oh…I see." Sansa felt more relaxed. This Elder must be checking up on Sandor, that's all. She was surprised to learn he had been to rehab, but given what she knew about his past, which wasn't, admittedly, a whole lot, it made sense.

Ever the hostess, she turned to Elder with a wider smile. "Would you like something to drink? We have some hot apple cider, and I think some tea as well." Elder nodded. "Tea would be fine. Thank you, my dear." Sansa stood and went into the kitchen, figuring the two men might want to discuss things in private. She could always ask Sandor about it later.

They spoke quietly, but as Sansa waited for the water to heat, she couldn't help but over hear some of the conversation. "You haven't been by in a while, Sandor," Elder was saying. "I've been busy lately," she heard Sandor rasp. "I see. And how are you coming along?" "Fine. Still drink…but it's not like what it used to be." "Indeed." No one spoke for a few moments. "Could this be because of a certain, lovely red haired girl?" Elder asked. Sansa almost dropped the spoon she was using to stir the tea. Sandor chuckled and said something in return, but she didn't catch it. Taking a deep breath, she walked back into the living room with the tea. "Ah, thank you." Elder took the steaming cup from her, and she moved to sit back down on the couch.

No one spoke much for the next few minutes, each suddenly occupied with their drinks. Elder finally stood to go, and Sandor followed him out onto the porch for a moment before coming back in and shutting the door. Sansa set her cup on the rugged coffee table. "He seems nice. I think I've seen him in the diner a few times." Sandor nodded. "Yea, he's alright. A bit too spiritual in some ways, but he's been helpful." He gave her a wry smile. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a struggling alcoholic." She smiled softly at him. "I figured…but it's ok. It's good that you're working on it." The looked each other until she patted the space next to her.

He smirked and strode back over, sitting and pulling her back into his lap. "Now, where we were before we were so rudely interrupted?" he growled. She giggled, a little nervously, and he started to kiss her again, leaning back into the couch so she was pressed against his chest.

Wolf had come in after Elder and had sprawled out on the floor by the fireplace, dozing off, when suddenly her ears perked and she raised her head to look at the door. Sansa didn't notice because Sandor was kissing her and working his hand under her shirt again. Wolf growled low in her throat.

Sandor broke the kiss and looked at the large dog. "What is it?" He glanced at the door. Sansa thought she heard a car door slam, and a after a few moments heavy boots sounded on the steps. Sandor gritted his teeth and stood. "What now?" In three strides he was at the door and wrenching it open just as someone started knocking.

It was Sheriff Jaime. "Sandor," he said. Sansa stood up and walked over to stand behind Sandor. Jaime's eyes widened, seeing her. "Oh…Sansa…I didn't know you were here." "What do you want, Sheriff?" Sandor asked gruffly. Jaime took a deep breath. "As I'm sure you both know, we've been trying to find out who is behind the graffiti." Sansa blushed and looked down, folding her arms across her chest. "And?" Sandor pressed. "We had… a tip," Jaime replied. "Sandor, I need to search your house and property for evidence."

Sandor threw his head back and roared, causing both Sansa and Jaime to jump. "HA! You think I had something to do with that?" The Hunter snorted, his face twisting with mixed amusement and disdain. "Why the hell would I have anything to do with this? Do you really think that if I was involved Sansa would be at my house?" Jaime looked uncomfortable. "I know it doesn't seem logical…like I said, I didn't know Sansa would be here," he said doubtfully. "But we have to look into every possibility. If you're innocent, you shouldn't have a problem with us taking a look around." "I have problem with people snooping around in my stuff," Sandor growled. "The sooner you let us, the sooner we can leave," Jaime told him. The man looked exhausted, and his hand twitched.

Sansa swallowed a lump in her throat, watching the two men face off. Who would give the Sheriff a tip about Sandor? It was ridiculous!

"Fine," the Hunter rasped. "Five minutes. I have nothing to hide, but I don't like people messing around on my property. Got it?" Jaime nodded. "Trust me, I want to get out of here as much as you do." The Sheriff turned and walked down the steps. Bronn and another policeman Sansa didn't know were waiting by their cars, but dispersed when Jaime gave the go ahead. The strange policeman went inside the house, and Bronn and Jaime looked around outside.

Sansa took a seat on the porch bench while Sandor stood with his arms crossed, scowling at everything. Wolf crept up next to him and whined.

After five minutes Jaime walked back to the porch. "Alright, Sandor looks like you're clear— "Hey Sheriff!" They turned around. Bronn was standing by Sandor's truck, looking in the bed. He reached in and pulled out a spray paint can and held it up.

Time seemed to stand still. Sansa stared at the paint can, then at Sandor, whose face had turned into a murderous black rage. "That bitch…" he swore, clenching his fists. Bronn pulled out a few more paint cans.

Jaime seemed to waver between what to do, but finally he turned to Sandor, who was seething with ill-controlled rage. "Sandor…I'm going to have to take you in for questioning." "Bugger that!" The Hunter spat. "I've been set up. There's no way I would do something like that, especially to the little bird. You here me, Sheriff?" Sansa took his fist in her hand, and he turned to her quickly, his face softening slightly. "I didn't do it, Sansa. Believe that." "I believe you," she nodded. "I know you didn't do it. Sheriff…please…" Her fingers curled around Sandor's wrist and she pulled his arm against her.

"I'm sure there's an explanation, Sansa," Jaime said, looking more uncomfortable than before. "But this has to be done. Regulations. We'll take him in, do some questions, and see what we can collect from the cans. That's it." Sansa bit her lip and looked up the hulking man next to her. "Fine," he snapped. "But I better not be there over night." He stomped inside for his coat and came back out, giving Jaime a glare until the Sheriff backed away to his car.

He turned to Sansa and pulled her to him, and she welcomed his embrace. "Stay here, Little Bird. I won't be gone long." He ran a calloused hand through her hair and cupped her chin. "I'll be alright. Wolf is here," she smiled at him, yet she couldn't shake off a foreboding shiver crawling up her spine.

A/N: Sorry my updates have been so far apart! School keeping my hands full, and I'm trying to find a new job at the same time. But I'm hoping to start bringing some more of the story together so that some action happens :)


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Nathan

Homework was impossible. Nathan pushed away from his desk and stared up at the ceiling. He needed to get of this house. The poison radiating from his mother the past few days was choking him. Who knew what she was plotting now. Nathan had no idea why she was intent on making sure the town was kept in the dark about the curse, but it had to mean something. Her involvement seemed crucial to the curse's strength.

He got up and walked to his door, opening it softly and listening. He heard his mother's voice faintly downstairs. _She must be talking on the phone_. Carefully he made his way downstairs, pretending he was going to the kitchen for a snack. Cersei's office door was cracked open, and he paused to listen. "…so the cans were planted successfully?" she was saying. A man's voice faintly answered her, and she laughed. "No. All they need are those fingerprints, and he's history. The police need someone to blame for the graffiti, and Sandor already has a record." Nathan inched closer, his heart pounding. "I'm going to have the Sheriff ship him off the island." Another pause. "Ok. Let me know when it's done."

The phone clicked into the receiver, and Nathan moved away from the doorway, horrified. He turned and ran for the door that led into the garage. He hit the garage opener and hopped on his bike, not caring if Cersei heard him.

Nathan biked as fast as he could in the pouring rain to the police station, which was, fortunately, near his house, hoping beyond hope he wasn't too late.

A rush of relief flooded him when he saw Jaime's cruiser parked in the driveway. Maybe they hadn't gone to collect Sandor yet. Nathan's mind rushed back to the conversation he had had with Arya earlier, while he hid in the far upstairs closet…

_"Sandor and Sansa are key to breaking the curse," Arya had whispered to him. "We can't let them be separated." "Did Mr. Steel tell you this?" Nathan had asked, confused. "Yes. I don't know why exactly. He said they were connected before the curse was cast. Try to get to his shop later tonight, and I'll tell you more. Nathan…you won't believe the stuff he's told me…" _

Tossing his bike onto the sidewalk, Nathan rushed into the building, running into Officer Brienne. "Whoa, hold it there!" Brienne said with a laugh. "I have to speak to Jaime…the Sheriff…right away!" Nathan exclaimed. The tall woman's brows furrowed. "Sheriff Jaime is busy right now with the graffiti investigation, Nathan." The boy looked around her and saw through the window that Jaime was looking over some files with a dark-haired woman. "But it's about the graffiti!" He pleaded. "Please! You have to let me speak to him!" Brienne hesitated, but something in Nathan's eyes must have convinced, for she nodded and led him to the inner office.

At one end of the office was a temporary holding cell. Sandor was sitting on the small bed, arms crossed and a scowl on his already fearsome features. Officer Bronn stood nearby. Jaime was still talking with Arianne, but stopped when he saw Nathan. "Nathan?" He cast a confused look at Brienne. "What's going on?" "Nathan has something – "It's about the graffiti!" Nathan interrupted. Jaime sighed. "It's ok, Nathan. We got some results back from spray cans we found. We know who did it." He nodded at the cell, where Sandor barred his teeth menacingly and let loose a string of curses. "No! You don't understand! The Hunter is innocent!"

The room fell completely silent. Sandor leaned forward in his cell. "What are you talking about, Nathan?" Jaime asked quietly. "We have evidence." "He was framed!" Nathan replied. "Listen to me…I know it's going to sound weird, but I know who was behind this whole thing…or at least one person." He took a deep breath and hurried on before Jaime could say anything. "It's my mom." Jaime's face flinched into a look of surprise, and even Brienne started a little. "HA! I told you!" Sandor crowed from the cell. "Shut up," Bronn told him. "Make me!" The big man stood up and walked to the cell door. "Go on, kid. Let's hear what you have to say."

Nathan nodded, swallowing. "Listen…just now I heard my mom talking on the phone. She said something about the cans being planted successfully, then she said something about making sure Sandor got sent off the island. And that all you needed was someone to blame…and since he already has a record, you won't question the fingerprints." He glanced desperately at each adult's face.

Jaime's face had gone pale and he sat down slowly. "Nathan…I'm sure you just heard her wrong…" "I didn't!" Nathan shouted. "Why won't you believe me! I _heard_ her!" "It's 'cause the mayor's got our sheriff wrapped around her finger, right Jaime?" Sandor sneered. "I told you that bitch had something to do with this." "Don't call her that!" Jaime shot back, his face now turning red. Brienne collected herself and said, "Jaime…it couldn't hurt to bring her in…just for some questions…"

Nathan suddenly remembered the end of Cersei's conversation. "She also told the person on the other line to call her when _it_ was done." The officers glanced at each other, but it was Sandor who answered. "Sansa…" he said through gritted teeth. "Whoever she's got working for her is after Sansa. Sheriff, let me out of here!" the man looked like he was going to pull the bars of the cell apart, his face a mask of fury. "You're not going anywhere, Hunter. You still have fingerprints on the cans…" "Screw the cans! Arrest me again later, but you have to let me go help Sansa!" "We have no proof that anyone is after your girlfriend," Bronn interjected. Sandor threw his hands in the air. "What good are you people! Look, at least send someone to my house to make sure she's alright!" "I can go," Brienne offered.

Jaime deliberated a moment. "Let's call your house first, Hunter." Jaime picked up the phone and dialed. They all held their breaths, waiting for Sansa to pick up. It rang and rang, then the line went dead. "Damn…" Sandor muttered, gripping the iron bars. "Ok. Brienne, you and Bronn go to the Hunter's house and check for Sansa." The two officers left, and Nathan looked at Jaime expectantly. "What about my mom?" Jaime gave him an uncomfortable glance. "I'm going to go call her and ask her to come over. Wait here, ok?" The sheriff stood and left the room with his cell phone.

Nathan realized he had been left alone with Sandor. Jaime, his thoughts wrapped up in the new information, had neglected to send another person in.

"Hey, kid," the Hunter rasped. "Thanks…for coming in here. Though I must say I'm a bit surprised you're willing to throw your mother under the bus." Nathan shrugged. "It's complicated. And you're welcome." He walked to the door of the office and looked out the window. No one was in sight. Jaime must have walked down the hallway to another room.

Nathan went back to the desk and started rifling through it. "What are you doing?" Sandor asked. "Trying to find keys," Nathan answered, opening a drawer. "The sheriff has them," Sandor snorted. "Give me a knife or something sharp. This lock is old. I can pick out of it." Nathan nodded, and soon he found a letter opener and brought it to him. "I'll watch the door," he said, and Sandor set to work on the lock.

Arya

The rain pounded against the windows. Arya was looking around at the knick-knacks in Mr. Steel's living room while he was in the kitchen making tea. She had spoken to Nathan, and hoped he would be able to sneak away soon. _Wait till he hears what I have to tell him,_ she thought, also hoping she could convince Mr. Steel to tell her more information. It was hard to believe they were all from another land: a land where magic existed, and people used swords. Arya wondered if it was a place like Middle-Earth.

A bookshelf stood in the corner, and she wandered over to inspect the books. Some artifacts were scattered along the shelves as well; a mockingbird pin, a glass vial, a little bottle filled with greenish liquid, and some strange coins. Arya passed her fingers over these lightly, then glanced at the top of the bookshelf.

A strange helm rested on it, dusty, yet the metal still gleamed faintly. It was shaped like a dog snarling. Curious, Arya took it down. It was heavier than she expected. There was dent on one side, and something rust colored dried near the snarling mouth. _Blood? _

"Different, isn't it?" Mr. Steel asked. Arya turned to him. "Yes…it's very different." She wiped some dust from it. "Somehow…it seems a bit familiar. Have I seen it before?" "I believe you have some nostalgia," Mr. Steel said with a smile, and offered her a steaming cup. Arya set the helm away and took the tea, curling back up on the sofa.

"So, will you tell me about this land we are from?" Mr. Steel chuckled. "It's not…nearly as advanced as this place. Much more barren, in some places. Castles. Horses are the main transportation." "And swords?" Arya asked eagerly. "Yes, swords too. The most common weapon." "What's it called?" "Westeros."

Arya mulled over this. "I wish I remembered." "You'll be back once the curse is broken," Mr. Steel replied. "You may wish you hadn't been brought back…" "Why? If it's home…I think I would be glad," Arya said, confused. "Life is difficult there. People do not have the same sort of freedoms there as they do here." Mr. Steel set his cup down. "But enough about that. Who else have you told about the curse?"

"Just this kid named Rickon. He's Mr. Davos' son," Arya said. Mr. Steel nodded. "No one else? Not even your roommate?" Arya sighed. "Nathan wants to tell her, and we were going to…but then all this stuff with the graffiti happened, and now she's over at Sandor's house." "It would be good tell her, when you get the chance," Mr. Steel told her. Arya started to ask why when they heard a bang from downstairs. "Maybe that's Nathan!" "I'll go and see." Mr. Steel exited, and returned a few moments later with a dripping wet Nathan.

"Hey!" Arya jumped up, nearly spilling her tea everywhere. "Hey," Nathan answered, shivering. Mr. Steel ducked into the bathroom and brought him a towel. "Are you ok?" Arya noticed the boy looked very pale and shaken. "I have to tell you what's happened," he said.

Nathan

He stood on tip-toe, watching for Jaime, as the Hunter messed around with the cell lock. "Piece of crap," the big man hissed. Finally the metal gave way, and Sandor pushed on the door. He walked over to Jaime's desk and picked up a zip-lock bag that had his belongings in it, then turned to the door.

"We're gonna have to make a break for it," he rasped. "You coming with me, kid?" "I need to find Arya and tell her what's going on," Nathan answered. Sandor nodded. "Alright." He paused. "You're not too bad, kid." Nathan grinned at him. "Neither are you."

They stole out into the hallway quietly. Jaime's voice floated from one of the other offices. He was still on the phone.

The Hunter grabbed the front door and hurried out, Nathan on his heels. The man unlocked his truck and climbed in. "Good luck, kid. Stay out of sight, ok? Jaime is going to be pissed." Nathan nodded as he hoped on his bike. "Just find Sansa." He pedaled off before Sandor could answer, and a moment later he heard the roar of the truck as the Hunter sped away.

The rain was falling in earnest now, and Nathan was shivering. He hadn't had time to put on his coat, and the water was icy cold.

He soon arrived at Mr. Steel's shop and banged on the front door, hoping he was home. The mysterious man opened up and led him upstairs.

After taking a seat near the fireplace and a cup of tea was given to him, Nathan told Arya and Mr. Steel everything that had happened. "Well, we've got even more ammunition against her now," Arya said, her fists curling. "If the sheriff decides to listen to Nathan's story," Mr. Steel reminded her. "He has to! And what about Sansa?" Mr. Steel looked troubled. "That is indeed a problem. Cersei has been planning to get rid of both them, it seems. Her plot to send the Hunter elsewhere was just a cover up. She was probably going to kill him." "We have to do something! We can't just sit here!" Arya protested. "We don't know if anything has actually happened to Sansa," Mr. Steel reflected. "Let us wait and see. I think," he continued, with a smile, "it might be more prudent to let the Hunter take care of this situation. Rescuing the damsel in distress…it might speed things up a bit, don't you agree?"

They sat in silence for a few moments before Arya scooted closer to Nathan. "Now it's my turn to tell you something…"

A/N: Worked on this instead of my homework. You're welcome lovelies!


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Jaime

"Cersei, I'm not accusing you of anything." Jaime tiredly pressed his hand to his eyes, trying to will away the exhaustion. His other hand was clamped around the phone, which was tilted away from his ear so that he didn't go deaf from Cersei's shouting. "I can't believe you would even consider that I would be involved," she spat angrily. Jaime sighed. "It's what Nathan said he heard, Cersei. It's my responsibility as sheriff to look into these things. I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this, so that no one is unjustly accused." There was a pause on the other end. "Why would Nathan say something like that, Cersei?" "Nathan has been having a lot of problems lately, Jaime. He's been running around with that Arya, and she's been filling his head with nonsense about magic, and how I'm some sort of evil witch." Jaime somehow doubted that Arya was doing this, but he said nothing. "Why don't you just come down to the station where we can talk about this with everyone," he pleaded. "Please, Cersei." The woman he loved sighed. "Alright, Jaime. I'll be right over."

Relieved, Jaime left the empty room he had been in and headed back to the office, his mind swirling with the information that had been dumped on him in the past couple of days, when he came to dead halt. The door to the office was open. And he very specifically remembered closing it. Had Nathan gone somewhere?

Racing to the doorway, he cursed. The holding cell was empty, and Nathan and the Hunter were nowhere to be seen. Continuing to curse, Jaime reached for his phone to dial Brienne when he saw she was already calling him. "Brienne?" "Jaime, we are at the Hunter's house. Sansa is nowhere to be seen, and the place is a mess!" Jaime groaned. Great. Just great. "Well, the Hunter escaped, and he's probably on his way there now…if he's really innocent. He might have Nathan with him. I don't want you to hold them though, if we have bigger things to worry about. I'll call in Sansa as a missing person." Brienne confirmed with him, and he hung up.

How could he have been so stupid? He had been so caught up with the accusations against Cersei that he had neglected to leave an officer in the room with Nathan and the Hunter. No doubt the scarred man had wheedled Nathan into getting him out of the cell.

Grabbing his gear, Jaime headed out of the station and jumped into his cruiser, hoping, that despite everything, he could at least do one thing right: find Sansa.

Sandor

A million thoughts flew through his head as Sandor sped through town and out onto the road leading to his home. He should have asked Sansa to come to the station with him. She would have been safe.

The fact that they had been so close to being together, and that he had just managed to place her under his protection, twisted the knife of guilt into him even harder. She had trusted him. And now she could be gone. Or hurt. Or worse…

Sandor gritted his teeth. Why couldn't people have just left them alone? This was that damn mayor's fault. Sandor still had no idea why she insisted on making their lives miserable. He gripped the steering wheel angrily. When this was over, he was going to make her pay for hurting Sansa.

He should have taken the kid with him in the truck and asked him questions. From the looks of things, Cersei's son didn't seem too attached to his mother.

The road finally led into the clearing of his property, and Sandor could see that Bronn and Brienne were waiting for him. He jumped out of the truck. "Don't try and stop me," he growled. "Where is she? Where's Sansa?" He looked around, searching for her brightly colored hair and pretty face. His eyes landed on his front door, which was smashed in. Cold dread swept through him, settling into the empty pit of his stomach. Brienne approached him carefully. "We haven't found her anywhere," she said. "The house looked ransacked." Sandor swallowed and pushed past her, climbing the steps to the house.

Inside was a mess. The coffee table had been flipped over, and the couch was torn apart. The kitchen drawers were emptied onto the floor. Sandor glanced around, listening, and walked into the bedroom. The covers on the bed had been thrown about, and the pillows were torn, leaving stuffing everywhere in clumps. The door to the bathroom was bashed open. Sandor investigated it too, to see if there were signs of a struggle. His eyes scanned over the sink and up to the mirror, and he froze.

The mirror was cracked, and in the middle of the fissure was a bit of blood with a couple long strands of red hair.

Sansa must have hidden in the bathroom when whoever it was broke into the house. They had found her in the bathroom…she had struggled…Sandor winced and curled his fists, allowing an anger to flow through him, like he had never felt before, yet it was welcoming and somehow familiar. It spread through his veins and engulfed the contentment that had been growing inside him from Sansa's presence in his life. Only one thing mattered: find Sansa, and kill whoever had done this to her.

Sandor had closed his eyes, but now he opened them and met his reflection in the ruined mirror. His eyes had turned almost black, and his face wore an indescribable mask of fury and rage. Everything in him longed for the taste of revenge, showing clearly on his scarred features. Sandor couldn't resist a small sneer to pull at his lips as he took in his transformation.

He turned around swiftly and stomped out of the cabin, intending to head for the shed where he kept all his weapons. He was going to hunt these people down like wild animals. Let them see what happened when they took something that belonged to him. _Sansa…._ So focused was he on this mission that he almost missed the small sound of whimpering.

"Hunter?" Bronn called. Sandor ignored him, and instead crouched down in front of the steps. Underneath the porch was an opening that he had been intending to fix so that no animals would make a home in there. Now he saw two eyes near the ground staring up at him. "Wolf…" he whispered. "Come here, girl." Wolf anxious to obey her master, whimpered again, and managed to crawl out into the open.

An arrow had lodged itself in her ribs. Sandor grimaced. The dog must have been shot trying to defend the house and Sansa. Wolf lay down at his feet and whimpered again. Blood was oozing from the wound.

Sandor patted her. "There…it's alright, girl. Let me get this arrow out of you." He stood and barked at Brienne and Bronn, who had ventured over. "Stay with her, I have to get some medical supplies to remove the arrow." Hurrying back inside, he dug through the wreckage of the kitchen until he found the kit he needed.

Wolf was a tough dog, but the arrow had dug deep, and she whimpered and cried as Sandor removed it. "Sorry, girl, but it has to be done," he spoke as soothingly as he could. The arrow came out, covered in blood and hair. Sandor handed it to Brienne. "Keep as evidence." He cleaned the dog's wound and bandaged it, then lifted the large animal into his arms, carrying her towards the shed where a soft bed was kept. Wolf liked to sleep outside a lot, and had created a nice nest for herself.

"I don't have time to take her to any vet. Think you can handle that?" Sandor growled at Brienne. The woman nodded. "I'm sorry, Sandor," she said. "Sorry won't change anything. Why don't you do something useful," he hissed.

Jaime's cruiser pulled up then, and Brienne walked away with a painful expression her face.

Sandor ignored the sheriff's arrival and proceeded to enter the gun shed. He had quite a collection, but he needed to move fast and not be weighed down, so he made his selection carefully, making sure to bring enough ammo. He slid a knife into his boot as well, and strapped a long hunting knife to his belt. The handguns he strapped onto his waist and leg as well, and picked up his favorite double-barrel shotgun. He didn't have any bulletproof vests, but he did have a thick vest that he wore when hunting during the winter, and it would probably help slow the damage a little if he were shot.

Finally ready, he filled a bowl of water for Wolf and set near where she could reach. The poor dog wagged her tail at him as he patted her. "Don't worry, girl, I'll bring her home. Then the three of us can get out of this &%$# %* town."

He marched out of the shed to see his front yard was now crawling with cops. Growling, he stomped towards his truck, then remembered something. He found Brienne and grabbed her shoulder. "Where's the arrow?" she showed it to him and he studied it carefully. "I know this…" he tossed it back to her and began to hurry away. "Sandor? Where are you going?" Jaime ran over to him, blocking his way to the truck. "To find Sansa. Now move out of my way." Jaime still blocked him, stubbornly. "You can't just go wandering off like this! I know you're upset, but this is the police' job – "Yea? And fat lot of good you've done so far, Sheriff." Sandor spat at the ground. "While you all are here scratching your heads, Sansa's running out of time, and I'm going to find her. So get out and stay out of my way!"

The yard had gone silent at his thunderous outburst, and Jaime stared at him in shock, a mixture of anger and frustration on his face. A moment passed, and the sheriff's shoulder's slumped. Sandor snorted and pushed past him, climbing into the truck and revving the engine. _Little Bird…hang on_.

A/N: If anyone is curious as to why some characters' PoVs are longer than others, it's because when I write this story, I picture it in my mind as a TV show, so each pov, to me, represents a scene in the show, long or short. Thank you so much for reading this! I can't believe I'm already on chapter 30! I never dreamed it would get this far.


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